“Derek doesn’t have the manpower for this on his own,” I said, stepping closer to Vincent. “Borza is funding him, but Derek is the architect. He wants to make you realize I am not worth the cost.”

“He underestimates my resources,” Vincent said.

He walked over to a heavy steel door at the back of the study.

He punched a six-digit code into the keypad, and the lock clicked open.

“Leo, take her down to the secure wing,” Vincent ordered. “No one enters or leaves without my direct verbal authorization.”

“What about you, boss?” Leo asked.

“I am going to the docks,” Vincent said, pulling a sleek black pistol from his shoulder holster and checking the chamber.

“Vincent, please,” I said, grabbing his sleeve. “It is a trap. Derek wants you out in the open.”

He gently but firmly removed my hand from his arm.

“I survived worse than your ex-boyfriend before you were even born, Clara,” he said. “Go with Leo.”

The hallway behind the steel door was cold and lit by flickering fluorescent strips.

Leo led me down a flight of concrete stairs that smelled of damp stone and ozone.