“Don’t do it, Luca,” Marcus said.

Luca looked at me, then at the laptop screen, then at the gun in my hand.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key fob.

He did not hand it to Marcus.

He held it out toward me.

“Luca,” Marcus hissed, his voice tight with rage.

“She is pregnant with my child, Marcus,” Luca said, his voice trembling. “I won’t let her die in this house.”

I took the keys with my free hand.

“Thank you, Luca,” I said.

But before I could take a step toward the door, the laptop screen lit up again.

A new window opened automatically, overriding the encryption software.

It was a live video feed from the estate’s front gate.

Two black sedans had just pulled up, blocking the driveway.

The headlights cut through the falling snow, illuminating the figures of men climbing out of the vehicles.

They were not Marcus’s men.

And they were not the police.

Marcus looked at the screen, and a cold smile touched the corners of his lips.

“It seems we have other guests, Elena,” he said.