Page 133 of Shadow

“Move or I shoot her. And I know how much you love her.”

He swallowed. But he didn’t refute it.

But when he glanced at Daphne, she wore horror on her face. “Don’t⁠—”

Of course he got on his knees.

Roger had clearly been rummaging through his closet. He’d found a necktie and now used it to tie Asher’s hands.

“Don’t,” Daphne said quietly. “Don’t do this. You’re just making it worse.”

“Worse?” Destiny laughed. “Please. Nothing is going to happen to us.”

Roger pushed Asher over, onto the floor, on his stomach. “You move, you die.”

No more whining, no more complaining. Yeah, Roger and Destiny were the true actors here.

The crunch of trucks on gravel. Dust rising on the ranch road, visible through the glass.

A vehicle approaching. Fast.

Daphne’s eyes flicked to the window. Then back to Destiny. “That’s the FBI. This won’t end well for you.”

“Hardly,” Destiny said, voice amused. “The FBI works for us.”

The words punched Asher. He looked at Daphne, who, yes, looked at him. Like he’d been the one to give them away. He shook his head.

Her jaw tightened.

He barely caught the top of the SUV as it pulled up.

But by the look on Daphne’s face, nope, not the FBI.

The door closed, and in a moment, footsteps on the porch, and then the front door opened.

And the man who stepped into his house wasn’t Dani Kim or Patterson or any agent Asher recognized.

Tall. Dark hair. A scar running from his right ear to his jawline.

Draven Frost.

He smiled.

Asher’s blood went cold. His heart hammered against his ribs.

If word had gotten back about Dmitri, they’d have been here sooner. Good.

“Hey, bro,” Draven said as he walked in. “Boss.”

“Draven. We need to end this,” Destiny said. “There’s a closet in the office. Put our overeager agent in it.”

For a second Asher thought she meant him.

But Draven walked over.

And that’s when Daphne moved.

Wow, she was fast. She pulled out her Glock, stepped back. “Stay. Away.”