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But I know Samuel would have believed us if our positions were reversed. He wouldn’t have dismissed the black sedan. He wouldn’t have called Dad pathetic. He would have noticed the fallen tree was too cleanly cut. He would have seen the men coming before they reached us.

That’s what he did at the market. He saved my life, and I left with the one person who refused to believe I was in danger.

The scarred man releases Dad’s hair.

“You’ve gotten soft, Douglas.”

Dad spits blood onto the concrete. “Viktor.”

The scarred man smiles. Dad knows him. The realization sends a fresh wave of terror through me.

“I wondered how long it would take you,” Viktor says.

Dad lifts his swollen face. “Markovic sent you.”

“Mr. Markovic has waited seven years for this day.”

I look at Dad. Shock passes over his features before he hides it. “Anton is in prison.”

“Not anymore.”

Viktor walks toward me. I strain against the rope, pushing the chair backward until its legs scrape the floor. He crouches in front of me.

The scar curves from the corner of his jaw to his ear, shiny and pale beneath the harsh light. Up close, it looks even more distinctive. Exactly as Samuel described it. Viktor hooks one finger beneath my gag and pulls it down around my neck. I gasp for air.

“Leave her alone,” Dad growls.

Viktor doesn’t look away from me. “You have your father’s eyes.”

“Go to hell.”

His smile widens. “His courage too.”

Dad jerks against his restraints. “This is between us.”

“No. This is about children.”

Something dark flickers across Dad’s face. A memory. Or maybe a regret? Possibly fear?

“What happened wasn’t my fault,” he says.

Viktor stands and turns toward him. “That is what men say when they want to sleep at night.”

“Markovic used her as a shield.”

“His daughter died in your operation.”

“Because he put her in the middle of a gunfight.”

“And now you will understand his pain.”

My stomach turns to ice. This was never about ransom. They don’t want money. They want revenge.

Dad looks at me, and for the first time in my life, I see true helplessness in his eyes. He was wrong.About Samuel. About the danger. About all of it.

One of the other men steps out of the shadows. He’s the man who drove the sedan. He still wears the same dark jacket, but his baseball cap is gone. A pistol hangs loosely from his hand.

He studies me with a flat expression.