“If you click that, I have nothing left to lose.”

“I will blow this place to hell, and then I will come for you.”

The timer on the briefcase screen ticked down to four minutes and fifteen seconds.

Rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of Adrian’s office, a dull, rhythmic beating.

Inside, the only sound was the high-pitched hum of the computer fans.

Adrian placed his hand over mine.

His palm was warm and completely steady.

“Do it, Emily,” he said softly.

“I trust you.”

I looked at Marcus’s desperate face on the screen.

He was sitting in the back of a black SUV, the terminal of Midway Airport visible over his shoulder.

He needed this money to buy his silence, to buy his way onto a private charter to a country without extradition.

If I froze the accounts, he would be completely broke, unable to pay his driver, his pilot, or his associates.

He would be trapped.

I took a deep breath, feeling the strength of Adrian’s hand over mine.

I clicked the mouse.

The screen flashed green.