Page 10 of Billion-Dollar Ransom

“THIS IS VERY much happening, Tyler Schraeder,” the gunman replied.

The producer flinched, which pleased the gunman. Yeah, I know your name, rich boy.

The most important weapon he had was not in his hands; it was the element of surprise. This would work only if he could keep the nude couple off balance for the next two minutes.

The gunman, whose code name was Five, had no doubt this spoiled prick would try something, if only to maintain the illusion of dominance. Question was, would he try right away or bide his time and size up his opponent?

Five decided it was best to proceed with clear instructions and wait for the producer to make his move.

“On your feet. Hands on top of your heads, fingers laced,” Five commanded.

“Not gonna happen,” Tyler said. “You and I are gonna talk this through, because obviously, you’re not thinking straight. I can get you whatever help you need.”

“I won’t ask again, Tyler .”

The actress was already in full compliance mode. Cassandra Bart seemed to have made the transition from brazen hellcat to helpless victim without missing a beat. Then again, that’s what people in her profession did. Maybe she would make the first move.

Five would have to watch her carefully.

“Look,” Tyler said, “you hit the jackpot! I am a very wealthy man. And you’re going to walk out of this room much richer than when you stepped into it, my friend.”

Five just stared at him.

“But here’s the thing,” Tyler continued. “The longer you act all tough and the more you threaten to blow our brains out, the lighter your little payday gets. So do the smart thing. Drop the gun and you can name your price. But every second you hesit—”

Crack.

Tyler Schraeder was unable to finish his speech because Five smashed the butt of the AR-15 into the rich boy’s handsome face.

“I’m sorry,” Five said. “You were saying something about hesitating? How much has the price gone down now? Did I just lose a couple of thousand there, my friend ?”

“You…” The naked producer struggled to stay on his feet. “You bwoke my fucking teef!”

“Yes, I did. Disobey me again and see what I break next.” Five unhooked the bag from his shoulder and tossed it to the floor between the producer and the starlet.

“Inside the bag are jumpsuits. They’re your sizes. Put them on.”

“What is even happening?” asked Cassandra in a pitch-perfect blend of confusion and panic. “Please, I am seriously terrified, and I need to know what this is about—”

“Now!”

Maybe it was the blood pouring from Tyler’s mouth or maybe it was the tone of the gunman’s voice, but Cassandra Bart immediately dropped to her knees and unzipped the duffel bag.

The first jumpsuit she pulled out was too long. She held it out to Tyler without looking up at him; he snatched it out of her hand while also avoiding eye contact. As if they believed that looking at each other would confirm this nightmare was real.

This greatly amused Five. Just a few moments ago they had been all about athletic sex and cheap lies.

Look at them now—bleeding, naked, afraid…

and totally under his command. Being rich and powerful meant nothing when you had a gun aimed at your head and you were trying to pull on a stiff prison jumpsuit without falling over.

Tyler Schraeder looked up at Five, his chin covered in blood and a flicker of defiance in his hard eyes. Oh, yeah. Time to extinguish that too.

“Tell me, Cassandra,” Five said, “will you still love him even without his perfect smile?”