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As the door hisses shut behind her, Denny leans over me, his breath hot with the stench of cigarettes and coffee. “I wonder if your sister is still as sweet as she was when she was here.”

My stomach rolls. Vesper was here? Oh god. Had they…had they done things to her as they had me? The thought makes me retch.

“She’s a pretty little thing. Especially when she is sedated. The things I could do to that pretty body of hers without her even knowing.”

Rage flashes through me, temporarily overriding the chemicals in my veins. “You don't talk about her," I snarl, lunging against the restraints with enough force that Denny actually steps back.

“Easy, tiger." He chuckles, clearly enjoying my helplessness. “Save your energy. You'll need it for the show tonight.”

The drug continues its relentless assault on my system, spreading numbness from my extremities inward while keeping my mind painfully alert. My thoughts race in frantic circles as I process what little information I have. Transport. Family reunion. Vesper.

I'd convinced myself she was safe. Far away from this nightmare. I imagined her in Russia, living in some palatial estate as Dmitri Petrov's wife. I hated the thought of my sister being sold off like property to cement our father's alliance with the Russians, but at least she'd be protected. The room is spinning as realization dawns. “My sister...she's not with the Petrovs?"

Denny's eyebrows lift, genuine surprise crossing his features before amusement replaces it. “You really don't know, do you? Your sister's been quite busy since your daddy tried to marry her off. She served her purpose for The Collector, and then he sold her like the fucking bitch she is.”

A murderous rage blossoms in my chest, momentarily overpowering the chemical in my veins. I strain against the restraints with such force that the bed frame creaks.

“You're lying," I spit, even as dread pools in my stomach. “My father would have burned this place to the ground if she was taken."

Denny's smile is ugly, revealing tobacco-stained teeth. “Your father's dead, kid. Has been for a while."

The words hit me like a physical blow. My father is dead? For all his cruelty, all his sins, I'd always believed him invincible. The immovable center of our twisted family universe.

“You're full of shit," I manage, though uncertainty creeps in. How long have I been here? What's happened in the world outside these walls?

“Believe what you want." Denny shrugs, checking his watch. "But your sister's coming for you tonight, walking right into the trap set for her. The Collector always gets what he wants. She’s the key to his future.”

My mind races despite the drug's increasing hold. What could Vesper have that's worth all this?

“What does he want from her?”" I growl, fighting to keep my thoughts coherent as the edges of my vision blur.

Denny's smile widens. “Above my pay grade, but I hear it's special. One of a kind. Something only your sister can provide him. Now, rest up. You’ll be seeing her real soon.”

VESPER

I standat the window of our Boston apartment, watching the late afternoon light paint the city skyline in hues of amber and gold. With our safe house no longer safe, Oz decided that we were better off back in Boston. Closer to the meeting tomorrow, and better equipped. In the blink of an eye, we were on the road, heading back to our home base. To Alex’s empty room.

“Perimeter's secure,” Oz announces as he emerges from the bedroom hallway. “Security system is armed.”

I nod without turning. Behind me, I can hear the familiar sounds of my men preparing for war—the metallic click of weapons being checked, and hushed conversations punctuated by the occasional curse. It should be comforting, but all I can think about is the empty space where Alex should be standing, hunched over his laptop with that little furrow between his brows.

I press my fingers against the cool glass, feeling the vibration of the city below. My mind keeps replaying the image of Luca hanging there, the way his body convulsed when that cattle prod touched his skin. Twenty-four hours. That's all the time I have to save what's left of my family.

“Vesper.”

The voice behind me is gentle, careful. I turn to find Talon standing there, his injured arm still in a sling, holding out a steaming mug of coffee. The rich aroma reaches me, but my stomach turns at the thought of consuming anything.

“No, thanks,” I say, shaking my head. “I can't.”

“You need something. You've barely eaten.”

“I said no.” The words come out sharper than I intended.

Talon doesn't flinch, just sets the mug down on the windowsill beside me. “It's here if you change your mind.”

Oz and Z emerge from the hallway, joining us near the large table in the living room where maps and blueprints of the Rossi mansion are spread out.

“We've got three potential entry points,” Oz begins, leaning over the table and pointing to the layout. “East wing has the heaviest security, but we might be able to bypass it if?—”