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“I’m not hungry,” she says and looks away.
“Suit yourself.”
“You can stop pretending I’m some kind of guest, Mr. Turner. I’m your prisoner.”
“That’s true, but there’s no need to be unpleasant about it,” he complains.
“What did you mean, my father isn’t who I think he is?”
“For one thing, he’s a fucking liar.”
She rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Who assigned you the duty of a confessor? He doesn’t owe you anything, truth or lies. This is a waste of everyone’s time,” Ana says, standing up and heading to the bedroom.
“Do you know why he has that doctor living with him?” Turner asks with a malicious tone. “He’s dying.”
Ana halts mid-step and turns around. “What did you say?”
“Don’t you think that’s something he owed you to disclose? His favorite child, the daughter who will carry on the legacy of Petrov Shipping. Shouldn’t he have told you at least?”
“He would have told me,” she protests, fists tight and nostrils flaring. “You’re the liar.”
“You can ask him tomorrow. My point is, that man is half lying every time he opens his mouth. You’re wrong about something else. He does owe me the truth.”
“About what?!” Ana screeches. Suddenly, she launches herself at Turner and grabs his shirt.
I’m on my feet, heart in my throat.
Ana shakes him. Shakes her kidnapper! Goddamn, this woman. Fuck, I’ve never felt more helpless.
“Tell me! Why are you lying about his health? What do you want from my father?” Her desperation laces every syllable. A sob escapes.
The man grabs her wrists with one hand and I clutch my gun, as if I can shoot him through a fucking computer monitor. Hell isn’t burning flames and torture chambers. Hell is watching the woman you love at the mercy of a criminal.
He pulls out a gun from a back holster and my world collapses into itself. The floor is unsteady, and my vision is blurred except for the weapon held by a man threatening Ana.
A minute ago, he was going to feed her and now, when I think there’s a way out of this, he’s a split second from shooting.
He keeps the gun pointed to the floor and does something unexpected. He looks up at the camera.
Addressing me, he declares, “I won’t kill her, Bryce, you have my word. There’s no reason for Ana to get hurt, even though she’s determined to be a brat. But unfortunately for you, this isn’t a conversation you’re invited to.”
He points the gun at the camera and shoots.
Carefully laid out and meticulously followed, plans in my line of work are meant to save lives. They keep people in line and manage contingencies. There are times when sticking to a plan is the difference between life or death.
This is not one of those times.
“Did you see that?” My voice is eerily calm. I stand and gather my things, sheathing two handguns in my double chest holster.
“Yeah, we saw it,” Tristan states. “Fuck, Bryce, take a minute.”
“What’s Kina and Jake’s ETA?” I bark.
“They’re probably at least an hour away,” Adam answers.
“I can’t wait that long. And the plane?” My agents are flying in through an air cargo terminal close by.
“Landing in approximately twenty minutes.”
