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“Settle down or someone’s going to get hurt.” This time when I look in the mirror, there’s a phone in his hand. “Here’s something to consider.”

My own voice blasts through the tinny speakers. The pitch is higher than it sounds in my head, the intonation flatter but still unmistakable.

“If you won’t reschedule the old job, then how about a new one? How much to kill someone?”

“Kill who?”

“Kincaid Tana.”

The recording breaks off, then starts again. And again. The repetition drills the point home. The words grow more ominous each time I hear them.

My attacker pockets his phone, not bothering with the scalpel now I know he has something far more deadly in his possession.

“Do you know what happened to the last person who challenged Lance Tana’s family?” Without a break to let me answer, he catches my eye in the rear view and draws his finger across his throat. “Word is it took the poor sod three days to die and the worst he’d threatened was a beating.”

My heart wants to protest that Kincaid would never let his uncle hurt me like that, any more than he’d follow through on his threat to Aidan.

But this concern is harder to dismiss. I remember our conversation in Auckland.He’d only hurt you if you threaten our family…

If Lance would be upset by a police complaint levelled at his son, a hitman hired to kill his nephew is certain to bring out his full wrath.

It wouldn’t just put me on the wrong side of his ledge, it would set fire to every spreadsheet, reducing his calculations to ash.

I doubt he will care that my attempt failed.

Kincaid might accept my explanation, but the strangely formal relationship with his uncle makes me doubt he could sway him. Even if he does now… what happens if he grows sick of me in six months? A year? A decade?

I’m so scared my bladder throbs a warning. I set my jaw to hold back tears.

“If you were anyone else,” the man continues, “I would hand this straight to Lance Tana in return for some ungodly sum, but since you’re an existing client, I’m going to give you the deal of a lifetime. Are you listening?”

I nod, then clear my throat enough to croak out, “Yes.”

“Good. There’s a USB drive in a safe at Tana Manor that belongs to me. Your little boyfriend stole it from a friend of mine, and now I want it back.”

“You want me to steal it?” I’m horrified. I have no clue how to break into a safe.

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that. At this stage, I just want you to facilitate its return. Get me gate code to the property and a keycard for the door. I’ll take care of the rest.” He squeezes my shoulder, giving me a shake. “Doesn’t that sound easy?”

It sounds like a shortcut to getting killed, but I play along. “And if I give those to you, you’ll delete the recording?”

It doesn’t matter what he says. It would be stupid to get rid of leverage against a business rival. Even if he never plans to use it, keeping it in his back pocket for a just-in-case scenario still leaves me exposed. I could kill him right now and it would just pass to whoever is second-in-command.

It will always hang over my head.

Fear swells until I’m choking on it, struggling to breathe.

“We’ll see,” he says, not even trying to allay my worries. “Get me the information and I’m sure we’ll come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. How does that sound?”

Dark spots fill my vision. I nod and he climbs out of the car, pausing with his hand on the open door.

“You’ve still got my number. Text me the details when you have them, and I’ll rent a box where you can leave the access card. Don’t do anything stupid or that recording goes straight to Lance.”

He slams the door, cutting through my neighbour’s section and quickly moving out of sight while I collapse into the seat with my shoulders slumping.

I can’t go to the police.

There’s no way I’m giving him the code and card he requested.