His finger remained steady on the trigger, his gaze locked on Richard’s forehead.

“You have nothing, Richard,” Roman said.

“The ledger you stole was a decoy.”

“I wrote every line of it myself to see where you would run.”

Richard’s grip on my arm tightened until it throbbed.

“You are lying,” my father hissed.

“You would not risk her.”

“She is your precious little informant.”

Up on the catwalk, Victor let out a dry, amused chuckle.

“She was a tool, Richard,” Victor said.

“And now she is a liability to everyone in this room.”

“Except me.”

Victor signaled one of his armed men.

The man adjusted his grip on his rifle, aiming down at us.

The rain outside grew louder, hammering against the metal roof like a thousand small fists.

The smell of salt water and rotting timber drifted in through the broken windows.

“I brought backup, Victor,” Richard shouted, his voice echoing in the vast, empty space.

“I did not come to this harbor alone.”

“There are six men outside.”

“They are paid to clean this place out if I do not walk out of that door in five minutes.”