I held the phone out toward him.

“Look at this.”

Lorenzo didn’t lower his gun, but his eyes flicked down to the screen.

I watched his face harden as he read Mrs. Bellamy’s words.

The muscles in his jaw clenched, a low growl rising from his chest.

“You,” Lorenzo said, his voice dropping to a dangerous register.

Evan didn’t deny it.

He only smiled, a cold, slow parting of his lips.

“Mrs. Bellamy is a very weak woman, Mr. Rossi,” Evan said.

“She was remarkably easy to persuade once she realized what was at stake.”

“Where is she?” Lorenzo demanded, taking a half-step forward.

“She is currently locked in the main security office,” Evan said.

“Under my supervision, of course.”

The heavy wire cutters in his hand caught the light as he shifted his weight.

He looked at me then, his pale eyes locking onto mine.

A strange sensation washed over me, cold and heavy like ice water.

There was something in his posture that felt horribly familiar.

The way he tilted his head.

The slight slouch of his shoulders under his heavy dark jacket.