“And Holt is miles away, chasing a false tip in the north end.”

“You are alone, Audrey.”

The match in her hand burned down to her skin.

She let out a sharp hiss of pain and dropped the tiny piece of wood.

But before it hit the floor, she struck another one.

The sudden hiss and bright flare made me flinch.

“No more talking,” Beatrice said.

She lifted the jerrycan high, preparing to douse the stairs behind her to block any escape.

“Wait!” Liam shouted, reaching into his pocket.

“I have the transfer codes.”

“I can give you the harbor accounts.”

“Twenty million, Beatrice.”

“Right now.”

Beatrice paused, the match hovering over the red plastic.

Greed warred with her survival instinct.

“Show me,” she demanded.

Liam pulled out his sleek, black phone.

The screen illuminated his tense face, casting a blue light over the soot on his cheeks.

“I’m opening the vault app,” he said, keeping his movements slow and deliberate.

I took a quiet step backward, my heel pressing into the dusty floor.

I needed to get closer to the rigging rope.