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He has the same ravenous look as right before he kissed me in the bathroom. He stands, drops his napkin on his chair, and watching me like he’s about to eat me, he walks to the end of the table, where I am still seated. He rounds to the back of me.

My heart hammers.

Soft fingertips graze the nape of my neck, gently pulling away hair from my face. Lips tickle the tip of my ear.

“What do you want?” he whispers.

You, I think but don’t say it.

He moves to my other ear. “Seven o’ clock, darling. Do not be late.”

And then like a ghost, he’s gone.

Forty-Two

Astor

Cillian steps inside my office, closing the door behind him. He takes a second to assess the room and my mood, both dark, before crossing the room.

“He’s ready.”

I turn from the window and fully face him. “Who’s ready?”

“Carlos. He just messaged back. We have a meeting place arranged for tomorrow morning. You give him Sabine in exchange for Valerie’s body.”

When I say nothing—when I don’t blink, don’t move, don’t breathe—Cillian frowns.

“You okay, boss?”

“No.”

“What’s going on?”

“No. I mean, no to the exchange.”

He blinks. “I’m sorry—what?”

“You heard me. Tell Carlos he doesn’t get Sabine back.”

“But that’s been the plan since the beginning. I?—”

“He’ll kill her. You know that as much as I do. She’s nothing but a liability to him now.”

And you care? Cillian doesn’t say it, but it’s written all over his face.

“What about Carlos?” he counters. “This is your moment for payback. You’ll never see him again. You know that as much as I do.”

When I say nothing, he grows impatient. “You’re just going to let him go? Get away with kidnapping your wife? What about Valerie’s body? Her burial?”

I look away.

“Boss?”

“The swap is off. That’s my final decision. Now, leave.”

Forty-Three

Sabine

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