Marta whimpered behind her gag, her shoulders shaking under her wet cardigan.

Bennett held the notebooks out over the void.

The black leather covers glistened with water.

“Don’t do this, Bennett,” I said, taking a half-step forward.

“I said stay back!” he screamed.

His foot slipped slightly on the wet tiles.

He lurched, catching his balance at the last second.

Julian stepped up beside me, his hand settling firmly on my shoulder.

“Bennett, think about what you are doing,” Julian called out over the wind.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Bennett sneered.

He held up his phone in his other hand.

“The digital files are already with Yamato’s attorneys in Tokyo,” he said.

“But they won’t wire the second half of the funds without the physical books,” I said.

“Smart girl,” Bennett said.

“They want the hand-written annotations,” he added. “Your grandmother’s original measurements.”

“Those recipes belong to my family,” I said.

“They belong to Whitlock Luxe,” he replied.

“And I own Whitlock Luxe,” he said, his voice cracking with a manic edge.

“Not for long,” Julian said.