Would I be here banging Jorge with my mother and sister around the corner?
You were nearly ready to do that very thing last night.
It would’ve taken little encouragement. I hate admitting it to myself. It feels like a personal failure and a betrayal to Bastian.
“What do you want from me?”
“I’m glad you asked. Your father owes a large sum to people he pissed off because he’s kept them waiting. The hand was a warning to get your attention.”
“You certainly did that.”
“He owes six million euros. You need to pay that amount.Thenwe’ll discuss ransom.”
If that’s true, then Papa’s still alive.
“I want proof of life before I do anything.”
Jorge nods at my request. His approval makes this a bit less terrifying.
“Demanding anything from me isn’t good for your father’s health.”
“Perhaps, but it’s the only condition I have. I need to see my father’s alive and well before I give anything.”
“If you’d like him to remain alive, you won’t be so pushy.”
“I’ll only give the money if I’m positive he’s still alive. If he’s dead, I owe you nothing.”
I won’t give this man jack shit if I don’t get my father back. I’ll set him up with law enforcement and stand back.
“I’ll collect one way or another. How would your mother and sister feel if I hacked you to bits and sent you to them piece by piece?”
“Let me hear his voice. Send a photo with something that shows the date and time.”
“Avoiding the question tells me you didn’t like that idea.”
“The only thing I’d like right now is to see and hear my father.”
My phone pings with an incoming message. I tap the screen and pull up my texts. There’s a photo of Papa. A bandage covers his arm, and bruises mark his face. Who knows what they’ve done that I can’t see? Someone’s holding a phone beside him. The time matches what I read on my device. The date matches too.
My mom and sister sit in anxious silence as they watch me and hear only one side of the conversation. I nod, and relief visibly sweeps over them.
“There. You have your proof. You will transfer six million into your father’s Swiss account.”
“I can’t move that much money without raising flags all over the place. It’ll take me a couple days to get that much.”
My gaze shoots to Jorge as panic threatens. I can’t possibly accomplish that. His expression goes from blank to reassuring. I can’t tell what he’s reassuring me about. Will he help me get that money together? Does he know a way to avoid it? Does he have some Black Ops team that can rescue Papa?
“I’ll do my best. If I can’t get all at once, then consider what I do a sign of good faith.”
“Good faith?” The man laughs at me.
“Yes. Just like I consider the photo one. If you’re lying to me, you’ll get nothing.”
“You won’t know one way or another since you need to make the depositbeforeI return your father.”
The call ends. I stare at my screen, avoiding my gaze meeting my mom’s or sister’s. When I’ve gathered my thoughts enough to not feel my head’s a tornado one moment and blank the next, I gaze up at Jorge. When he doesn’t respond with a solution immediately, my gaze drifts to the box—or where the box should be. My gaze flashes back to Jorge. He mouths his response, and it makes my stomach twist.
“Mini-fridge.”
