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Did this man have a death wish? Or was he just plain stupid? To gain access to my personal phone, he had to be connected in the underworld. So he knew who I was. His boldness for confronting me should have been a warning, but I found myself annoyed at the interruption and presumptuous air.

“We’ve met, and tonight, you’ll meet me again,” came the insistence, each word delivered with the confidence of a man holding all the cards. “Or else sweet Serena is coming home with me.”

Shock pierced through me, cold and hollow.

Reason failed me, and I tasted panic at the back of my throat.

A note of amusement entered his voice, each word delicately calculated to shred my composure. “I admit, taking another man’s wife is an unforgivable sin, but I would imagine in time she’ll come to prefer my company over yours.”

The last word had barely left his lips when the line clicked dead. My breath came to a halt, choking in my throat, and my grip slackened as the phone slipped from my fingers. It dropped, spinning, and landed hard on the packed sand near the car’s tire, but I barely noticed. The man’s threat reverberated around me, an echo louder than any gunshot, and it pulsed with a cruel vigor, a living thing that had the power to bring my world to asudden, terrifying halt. It expanded, filled the air, pressed in on my chest until I swore I could feel the sun dimming in its grip. For a moment, I was frozen, a statue among moving shadows, while my mind raced and flailed and stumbled over itself.

This was no idle provocation. I knew it, felt it in the marrow of my bones, and it made everything around me—the men, the illegal shipment, the boat—seem small and insignificant. Out to sea, the gulls’ cries were muffled, distant, like hearing them from underwater. My thoughts were a tangle of wires, sparking and frayed, as they kept slipping back to Serena’s face and this mysterious man’s chilling assurance. Had we met? Was he bluffing? Was she already...? I couldn’t finish the thought. My chest hitched, my legs moved, and I lunged for the phone where it lay in the sand. It was as if my body had independently decided to snap out of its daze. I snatched it up and clutched it tight, revived by the resolve that rushed through me.

I had to act.

I had to know—know that she was safe!

Life would be unbearable if another piece of my heart was taken from me. My pulse surged with the frantic order to move, now, before the truth became unbearable.

But I didn’t have her number, because I’d never given her a phone.

Why! Why had I been so stupid?!

By the time I could send someone to check on her, it could already be too late.

My eyes darted to Filippos and the men, now hauling crates up the beach.

“Wrap it up!” I called, voice cracking like a whip. “Filippos! Hurry up and get it wrapped up!” Urgency dripped from my words, thick and relentless, as I broke into a run. Sand shifted under my bare feet, trying to impede my progress to the boat.

“What the fuck do you think we’re doing? These are heavy!” the crew leader snapped.

But he caught sight of my unforgiving look and barked out orders to move faster. I reached for one of the large crates, the dimension so wide that my arms stretched taught to grip both sides. With inhuman strength, I hauled it off the boat and began to march to the truck. While pairs of men struggled to keep up while sharing a load between them, I moved past with my own, not seeing straight.

Eight more boxes.

Eight more fucking trips from boat to truck.

And then Pavlos and Giannis could drive the goods into town while Filippos and the others would take the boat away.

Eight more boxes turned to six, then four, then two. My muscles screamed, sweat pouring down my back as I hauled the second-to-last crate from the rowboat. The weight seemed to increase with each trip, but the fire in my chest wasn't from exertion—it was fear, raw and primal, powering each step.

“Last one,” Filippos grunted, he and Pavlos struggling with the final crate. Their faces were flushed crimson, shirts soaked through.

I seized one side, adding my strength to theirs. “Lift, damn it!”

The crate rose, wood groaning against our combined grip. We staggered up the beach, a grotesque three-headed creature united in strain. When we reached the truck, I nearly threw my end upward, the box landing with a heavy thud that made the suspension creak.

“Get this shit to the warehouse!” I barked the final order and took off for my car. Our men were loyal and knew the ropes. As my tires spun in the sand, I caught sight of them closing and locking the truck door.

I’m coming, princess.And then I began to pray that I wasn’t too late.

***

I cracked my neck, but the vise-like grip of the silk tie kept the pressure on my throat. The 10 mm pressed against my ribs beneath the tailored jacket was a cold and familiar weight, but I resisted the urge to touch it. There was no telling what mess I was walking into.

Serena hadn’t been at the condo.

The reflection in the polished elevator doors showed nothing but rage, thunderous and brutal, on my face.Good.That was good. The mask kept back the more potent emotions: fear and heartbreak.