Page 37 of Billion-Dollar Ransom

“YOU DON’T SEEM like an idiot,” Boo Schraeder said suddenly in the near dark of the room.

“Uh, thank you?” Two replied.

He had stayed awake almost all night, a skill that could be credited to his former career. He was used to entering a kind of low-power mode in which he was consciously aware of his surroundings while his body recharged. If anything happened, he could come back online in a half a second.

Two’s pretty captive had slept—or at least, she had appeared to manage a few hours of slumber.

He had to admit, he enjoyed watching her.

The sound of her breathing was reassuring.

The only interruption had been a single bathroom break for his captive, which both handled with quiet grace.

No sudden moves, no awkwardness. She was fully compliant, even when it came time to cuff her to the bed frame again. (“Ooh, kinky,” she’d joked.)

“I’m lying here,” Boo said, “wondering how you, a human being of above-average intelligence, ended up in this position. I mean, kidnapping must be the dumbest crime ever.”

“I don’t know, Mrs. Schraeder. Everything seems to have gone according to plan so far.”

“Oh, it will unravel. These kinds of complicated plots always do. I’m a bit of a true-crime junkie, so I’ve read more than my fair share of kidnapping stories.

You want to know how they end? Let me give you a sneak preview.

You’ll end up either dead or spending the rest of your life in a room just like this one. ”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Two said. “I know a lot of crime stories too.”

“Then you know you’re doomed.”

“Aren’t we all, ultimately?” Even though the room was dim, he could see her amused smile.

“Let me assure you,” she said, “I’m not prying into the details of your precious little plot. I’m genuinely curious how you ended up in this line of work.”

Two considered her question. Despite her protestations, she was plainly fishing for useful information. But she’d happened to touch on something he’d been pondering for a while now. Especially over the past twenty-four hours.

“Sometimes,” he said, “you just have to play the hand you’re dealt.”

Boo let out a laugh that was almost a bark. “Oh, not the old poker metaphor! That’s such an alpha-male thing to say. You can’t possibly believe that.”

“Sure I believe it. Not everyone is lucky enough to marry the mega-rich, like you.”

“Ouch.”

“And I’m not sorry.”

“So you believe your entire life hinges on a random draw of cards? That there’s zero free choice or skill involved? I don’t know. Maybe you are an idiot.”

“Skill doesn’t matter when the game is rigged,” Two said. “If this world were even remotely fucking fair—”

Boo wasn’t smiling anymore. “What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it does. Denying it only makes it worse.”

“Let’s just drop it, okay? Are you hungry?”

Boo did not reply. She stared off into the darkness, lost in her own thoughts.

“Mrs. Schraeder?”

Two didn’t like this. He stood up from his chair and slowly approached the bed, stretching the stiffness out of his muscles as he moved.

“You’re right, by the way,” she said quietly. “About the unfairness of life.”

Two could make out the tears on her cheeks, and they were plain in her voice too. Maybe this was part of a game, another way to throw him off balance. But somehow, Two didn’t think so. His bullshit detector was a highly sensitive instrument, and the needle wasn’t twitching even slightly.

“I tried my best to be a good wife,” she said. “But I was either too much or not enough.”

And before he knew what he was doing—before he could even weigh the pros and cons of this crazy-stupid impulse—the kidnapper found himself kissing his abductee.

The same beautiful woman who, if it came down to it, he had agreed to kill.