He reached into his waistband and pulled out a black semi-automatic pistol.

The metal glinted in the harsh light of the single bulb above us.

My heart hammered against my ribs.

I looked at the darkness beyond our small circle of light.

Massive wooden crates and rusted shipping containers loomed like sleeping monsters.

A cold draft swept through the broken panes of the high windows.

I shivered, my thin sweater offering no protection against the midnight chill.

Derek stepped behind my chair.

He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back until my neck strained.

“Where are they, Clara?” he whispered in my ear.

His breath smelled of stale coffee and cigarettes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied.

My voice was barely a whisper.

“The offshore accounts,” he said, pressing the cold barrel of the gun against my temple.

“Your father’s legacy.”

“He left me nothing but debt, Derek,” I said.

A tear slipped down my cheek, hot and stinging against my skin.

“Don’t lie to me,” he hissed.

“The Crimson Seal was on the documents.”

“He hid the decryption keys in your necklace, didn’t he?”