“In the fireproof lockbox disguised as a water main valve.”

Sophia stared at me, the gun lowering slightly.

“How do you know that?” she asked.

“Because I carried the key in my makeup bag for four months,” I said.

“He thought it was a spare key to my mother’s cottage.”

The snow outside was falling thicker now, covering the hood of the idling SUV.

A second pair of headlights appeared at the gate.

The metal of the gates groaned as they began to swing inward.

“They are inside the perimeter,” Luca said, his hand moving to the small of his back.

“We have ninety seconds.”

“We are staying,” I said, my voice firmer now.

“We are going to give Marcus exactly what he wants.”

“And what is that?” Sophia asked.

“Me,” I said.

“But not the way he expects.”

I reached out and took the manila envelope from the desk.

I tore it down the middle, letting the forged papers scatter across the floor.

The white sheets drifted like the snow outside.

“If I run, I am a fugitive,” I said.

“If I stay, I am his wife.”