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He punches me in the stomach, suddenly and brutally, and I fold forward, gasping for breath.

“You humiliated me,” he hisses. “Escaped with a yacht, an entire shipment. You owe me a fortune. Did you honestly think I was going to help you escape from that Myanmar shithole, then just let you go?”

It’s as if every nightmare I’ve had over the last few years has converged in one horrible moment of reckoning.

I was so terrified of Jacey, and then so relieved by Juan’s honor in dealing with me, that I lulled myself into a false sense of security. I thought I was still dealing with the old Rodrigo, the spoiled boy who couldn’t see past his own ambition.

Maybe he’s still ambitious. But Rodrigo isn’t a spoiled boy anymore.

He’s a nasty, vengeful killer who ruthlessly murdered anyone who might block his path to the top of his father’s organization.

A sadist who finally has his hands on the one person who cheated him out of his first big chance to impress his father.

Rodrigo has no intention of letting me live. He isn’t Juan, able to be negotiated with.

Rodrigo is going to get information out of me. Then he is going to kill me.

Which means I have to get out of here before he does .

“Nico didn’t come back for me.” My voice is small, but I’m so terrified, I’m surprised I can talk at all.

“What?” His face is still inches from mine, the cruel light still glinting in his eyes.

“You said that was Nico’s mistake,” I go on. “Coming back for me after he stole the yacht. But it wasn’t me he came back for. It was the money.”

“Money,” Rodrigo sneers, sitting next to me and reaching for his drink. “What money? You can’t talk your way out of this, Abby—”

“Your money. The money Nico owed you. That’s what he came back for.”

His eyes narrow.

“It was the way that man controlled us,” I say, still shivering at the memory.

“The man who killed your father. He told Nico where to find the yacht. He told me where to find the money. That was the deal. We steal the yacht for him, and he gives us enough money to pay Nico’s debt to you.

Only I knew he had no intention of letting us go after the deal was done. ”

“What do you mean?” Rodrigo’s expression is skeptical. “Why wouldn’t he? What Nico owed me was barely a fraction of what that shipment was worth. It was a good deal for him.”

I laugh hollowly. “Money doesn’t matter to this man.

Secrecy does. Guarding his identity. Nobody ever sees his face or hears his voice.

And people like Nico and me? People he hires for one-off jobs, to steal or deliver something?

They die. Every time. Nobody who’s directly hired ever survives.

” I shake my head. “We didn’t know at first. One disappearance, maybe two.

.. we thought they were people who’d cheated him.

But then others started disappearing. People we’d met in Thailand or Colombia and stayed in touch with on social media.

Backpackers mainly, who worked like we did, dealing on the islands or in a bar somewhere.

And they all had the same thing in common: they were about to do one last job .

Something that would set them up forever.

Only then, they’d go silent. Months later, there’d be a post on their page, a family member asking if anyone had seen them.

That was when Nico and I got scared.” I meet Rodrigo’s eyes.

“So when he contacted Nico with a job, we knew what it meant. We knew we’d be the next ones to disappear. ”

“Keep talking.” His eyes haven’t left my face.

“Nico wanted to steal the yacht and the money and keep sailing, but I knew that was insane. We’d be running with both your cartel and this man chasing us—we wouldn’t last a week.

I figured our only chance was to give this man the shipment he wanted, deliver you the money Nico owed, and just run for our lives. But Nico wouldn’t agree.”

“So you drugged him,” Rodrigo says, watching me.

I nod. It wasn’t hard. Nico was popping so many pills by then he barely noticed what he was swallowing.

Nausea rises in my throat at the memory, and I swallow hard on it. First Nico , I think with a rush of shame, then Dimitry .

If I ever make it out of this, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for the mistakes I’ve made. For the coward I’ve been.

But first, you have to make it out of this.

“I sailed the yacht close to the drop-off point we’d agreed on, anchored it, and sent the man the coordinates by encrypted message.

I hid the money in the inflatable dinghy and set off back to shore.

” My heart is going hard, every moment of that terrifying night etched forever into my nervous system.

“I was planning to take it to the marina, leave it somewhere you would find it. But when I came close to shore, the man was standing on the beach, waiting for me. He shot the dinghy. It started to sink. I knew he was going to shoot me, too.” My voice is barely a whisper, the fear just as paralyzing as it was then.

“Except right before he could, a line of cars came over the dunes, lit the beach up like a football stadium. I saw the man’s face, as clear as if it was daylight.

” I shudder, the memory of the cold, hard features as vivid now as it was then.

“I sank under the water, trying to hide. When I surfaced, he was gone. It turned out the cars were just a pack of kids who wanted to party on the beach. I grabbed the money before the dinghy sunk and swam down the coast to the next beach. I should have just run. But I still had your money. I planned to give it back to you, but I knew Nico would never let me, and he had my passport. So I hid the bag and went back to the hostel. By then, Nico was awake—and furious, as you can imagine.” I look directly at Rodrigo.

“That was when you came. I was going to tell you about the money, but then I heard the commotion downstairs—you thought it was the police and ran. But I knew he’d come for us. ”

I swallow, remembering.

“It was him.” I can barely get the words out.

“I could hear him killing men downstairs. You’d already knocked Nico out, and I didn’t have time to run, so I hid in the closet.

I was sure he’d find me.” My breath is coming short.

“He shot Nico as soon as he came in. He was still searching for me when the police arrived. I don’t know how he escaped.

I just know that I’ve never seen him again.

” I meet Rodrigo’s eyes. “You know the rest. I went to prison, and that’s where I stayed, right up until your father came for me.

” I take a deep breath. “I gave your father what he wanted, like I told you. But I never told him about the money, your money. And after your father had me released, I went back for it.”

Rodrigo’s laugh is cold and completely without humor.

“You think you can bargain your way out of this with a few hundred thousand dollars? I spend money like that to fuel my yachts. It’s pocket change, nothing more.”

“Maybe.” Sell it, Abby. “But it isn’t the money that’s valuable.

It’s what I hid with the money. The tablet your father gave me, the one with the photo of this man’s face.

I printed off one copy of it in an internet café.

That’s what I sent Juan, once I was safe.

But the tablet with the original I hid with the money.

It’s still there, as far as I know. That’s what I can offer you, Rodrigo.

” I look around the penthouse. “And it’s also why we need to get out of here.

As soon as possible. Because the minute that man knows I’ve escaped, and that we’re together, he won’t wait to ask questions.

He’ll just have us killed.” I meet his eyes steadily.

“And if you think I’m lying,” I say quietly, “then you haven’t been paying attention. ”

He laughs again, but this time I hear it, the faint trace of uncertainty.

“I have a dozen men on this floor,” he says. “They’re all armed, and they’d all die to protect me. Nobody but them and the helicopter pilot know you’re here; we came in from the rooftop.”

“And that makes thirteen people who are supposed to keep your secret.” I shake my head. “That’s a lot of eyes, Rodrigo. I guarantee you he owns at least one pair of them. Probably the pilot, unless you brought him with you from Colombia.”

His eyes narrow as he stares at me.

I stare back.

Finally, his eyes shift uneasily. Then he takes out his phone.

“Get in here,” he orders in Spanish. A moment later, he opens the door to let in one of his men.

“We’re moving,” Rodrigo tells him in a low voice.

“Find a car. You’ll be driving. I want a cheap hotel, somewhere nobody would think to look for us, and I need everyone, including the hotel staff and our own people, to believe I’m still in here with the girl. Got it?”

The man nods and disappears.

Rodrigo scowls at me. “This doesn’t mean I believe you,” he says curtly. “It just means I’m being cautious.”

I nod.

It will do, for now.