“And he marries me.”

I stared at her, my throat tight.

“And if he refuses?”

Camille smiled, the expression empty of any warmth.

“Then I am authorized to end our little rivalry permanently.”

She reached out and tapped my cheek with the cold barrel of her silver pistol.

“You will be dead before sunrise, Maya.”

I leaned away from her touch, my teeth clenched.

“He won’t do it,” I said. “He hates you.”

“He loves his children,” Camille retorted. “And he wants you alive.”

She looked down at her phone as it began to ring.

“He will do whatever it takes to protect what is left of his family.”

The driver shifted the SUV into gear, and we surged forward into the dark streets of Chicago.

The city lights blurred through the rain-streaked window as we sped south.

I shifted my wrists against the plastic ties, trying to find any slack.

The plastic only bit deeper, cutting into my skin.

My thoughts rushed back to the safe house.

Would Isabella find the children?

Would they have enough water in that small room?