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“My daughter isn’t something you can buy.”

He studies me.

“She looks like you.”

My chest tightens.

“You’ve seen her?”

“I spent weeks gaining her trust.”

“You pretended to care about a child so you could sell her.”

“I didn’t have to pretend very hard. Sage was desperate for someone to love her.”

I lunge at him.

The weakened restraint around my wrists stretches but doesn’t break. Greg jumps backward as I slam my shoulder into his chest.

We hit the ground.

I drive my knee toward his groin, but one of the men grabs me by the hair and drags me away.

Greg climbs to his feet, breathing hard.

The smile is gone.

“Do that again, and I’ll break your jaw.”

“You won’t get close enough.”

He steps forward.

A vehicle engine rumbles near the gate.

Greg looks over his shoulder.

A large black SUV enters the compound, followed by a cargo van. Armed men close the gate behind them.

“Navarro,” someone says.

The fear on Greg’s face tells me everything.

Greg isn’t in charge.

A tall man climbs out of the SUV. His dark hair is streaked with silver, and a pale scar runs from his right temple to his jaw. He wears a black suit as if he has arrived for a business meeting instead of entering a mine filled with armed traffickers.

His eyes settle on me.

“This is the mother?”

“Yes,” Greg answers.

Navarro approaches.

He doesn’t crouch. He stands over me, studying my face.

“You created a great deal of trouble.”