His gaze drifted from Vincent down to the wet gravel at his feet.

“How?” Marcus whispered into the phone.

The man on the other end must have delivered more bad news, because Marcus slowly lowered the phone.

His hand was shaking.

Derek looked between Marcus and Vincent, his confusion turning into panic.

“Marcus?” Derek asked, his voice cracking. “What is it? What happened to the money?”

Marcus did not look at Derek.

He looked at his lieutenant, then back at Vincent.

“You didn’t keep it for yourself,” Marcus said, his voice barely a whisper.

“I don’t need your dirty money, Marcus,” Vincent said. “But I know people who do.”

At that exact moment, a loud, metallic clank echoed from the far side of the courtyard.

A heavy security door on the main villa building swung open, throwing a long beam of white light across the gravel.

Everyone turned to look.

A figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the bright indoor lights.

The figure was holding a small, glowing tablet.

The silhouette in the doorway was Gianna, Vincent’s chief of security.