“A black sedan is right behind our cab.”

“I know,” Benjamin said, his tone unusually tense.

“I have a security team tracking your phone’s GPS.”

“They will intercept the vehicle before you exit the Brooklyn Bridge.”

I let out a shaky breath, watching the headlights through the water-streaked rear window.

“Who is in that car?” I asked.

“It’s Harrison’s security detail,” Benjamin replied.

“They want to intimidate you, Mariana.”

“But you need to listen to me right now.”

“I have Jonathan on a secure line.”

“He just walked into the Manhattan penthouse.”

“He is confronting Rebecca, and he demanded I keep a line open to you.”

“I am patching you into the room’s audio feed now.”

Before I could ask why, a static hiss filled my ear.

The sound of the rain faded, replaced by the sharp echo of a heavy wooden door slamming shut.

“Where is it, Rebecca?” Jonathan’s voice came through, cold and stripped of his usual control.

I heard the rustle of paper, followed by a sharp intake of breath.

“What are you doing home so early?” Rebecca asked.