Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
I almost deck Yan. “It doesn’t fucking matter who it is. Sara is there, do you understand? She’s inside, with whoever they are.”
I can’t even begin to think of her with Henderson, a man who’s desperate enough to take that kind of risk.
A man who didn’t hesitate to attack the very country he’d sworn to protect in order to frame me.
What will he do to Sara if he actually has her in his clutches? Will I get there, only to bury her and our unborn child… just like I buried Pasha and Tamila?
No. I push the paralyzing thought away.
I won’t let that happen.
Not again.
“Fly faster,” I tell Kent grimly. “And Julian, if your guards don’t make it there in time, I’ll eviscerate them all, each and every single one.”
98
Sara
A million thoughts race through my mind. In a flash, I take in the guns on the dead men and on the floor—all within reach, but none close enough to grab before Henderson plants the bullet in Yulia’s brain.
My terrified gaze meets Nora’s, and I see the same doomed calculation in her eyes.
Even if we were good enough shots to hit Yulia’s captor without killing her, we wouldn’t be fast enough.
Not with Henderson’s gun pressed to her temple.
“Kick away those guns,” he orders, and I hesitate for a second, then numbly obey as Nora does the same.
Not only would we be too slow, but Henderson’s not much taller than long-limbed Yulia. With him using her as a shield, even a trained sniper wouldn’t make the shot.
My gaze falls on the baby clutched tightly against Nora’s chest. Lizzie still has the duct tape across her mouth, and I see her little face turning red as she strains to make muffled cries.
Nora is holding her like she will never let her go—and she won’t, I realize, taking in her death grip.
I can no longer count on Esguerra’s wife for help—not with the infant daughter she needs to protect.
An idea sprouts in my mind, and before I can think better of it, I look at Henderson and say calmly, “I know where your daughter is.”
He jerks, as if shot. Recovering swiftly, he demands, “Where?”
“I can take you there,” I say, ignoring the knot of fear in my throat. “We can go right now—if you let the others go.”
I don’t have a plan, or anything resembling one. I just know I want his gun pointed away from Yulia’s head—and as far away from Lizzie and Nora as possible. Even if I didn’t know about the crimes he’s committed, something about the former general would’ve made my skin crawl. It’s nothing outwardly visible—he’s trim and fit, in good shape for a man in his late fifties, and his features, framed by a full head of salt-and-pepper hair, are moderately pleasant.
Despite that, he reeks of decay, of rottenness that lurks deep underneath.
At my offer, his eyes narrow. “Do you think I’m an idiot? All three of you will take me to my daughter—or I’ll shoot this one.” He jabs the gun at Yulia’s temple, causing her to wince.
Damn it.
“You don’t need them,” I try again. “You can use me as a hostage. Your beef is with my husband—and he will do anything for me.”
“Well, isn’t that sweet,” he drawls. “A romance for the ages. Maybe I’ll kill you later and make him watch. How does that sound?”
I stare at him without flinching, ignoring the nausea spreading through me.
I’m not going to show this monster any fear.
He won’t get that satisfaction.
At my lack of response, annoyance flits across his features. “Fine,” he snaps. “Like I said, all three of you are coming with me. You and that one with the baby”—he jerks his chin toward Nora—“will go in front of me. And remember, one wrong move, and this one”—he jabs the gun at Yulia’s head again—“gets it. Understand? Now walk toward me.”
Swallowing, I step toward the door, and Nora cautiously follows, cradling squirming Lizzie against her chest. Henderson backs out into the hallway, still shielding himself with Yulia, and as soon as we’re out of the room, he orders us to go downstairs.
“You will lead me to my daughter, understand?” he says darkly as we start toward the stairs. “If you try anything, anything at all, I’m going to shoot every one of you bitches—and Esguerra’s demon spawn as well.”
Locking my knees to stop them from shaking, I approach the wide, curving staircase. The floor is icy under my bare feet, and my heart feels like it’s going to jump out of my throat. I don’t know what to do, how to get us out of this situation. Henderson’s daughter is safe and sound far away from here—all Peter has is the fake video given to him by Bonnie—but Henderson wouldn’t believe me if I told him that. And if he did believe me, he’d probably kill us all.