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But then he urges the horse faster.

And faster.

And faster still.

The path curves sharply ahead, and instead of slowing, he digs his heels in harder. The stallion’s hooves churn up clouds of dust. We take the corner at a speed that makes my stomach fly into my throat, the horse’s body tilting at an angle that feels catastrophically wrong. I could swear I feel my cheek graze the dirt.

“Lukas!” I scream over the pounding hooves. “Slow down!”

If anything, he goes faster still.

We’re careening now. Even as the path narrows where it snakes between crumbling stone walls, we’re picking up more speed with every stride. Branches whip past my face. The stallion’s breathing is agitated, foam flecking at the corners of his mouth.

“Lukas,stop!”

His arm tightens around me, but that’s the only acknowledgment I get.

Suddenly, I feel very, very stupid. I poked the bear. I mocked him, goaded him, called him a coward. The man is amurderer,for fuck’s sake. And I just pushed him to the limit.

What the hell did I think was going to happen?

The path opens up without warning, spilling us into a clearing I didn’t know existed. Lukas pulls back on the reins and the stallion skids to a halt. My heart has relocated itself to somewhere in the vicinity of my esophagus. When I finally coax it back to a normal location, I take in our surroundings.

It’s a grotto. A secluded grotto, like something out of a fairy tale—if the fairy tale was written by someone with a very dark imagination. Piles of craggy boulders rise up on three sides, draped in creeping vines and moss so thick it looks like velvet.A natural spring bubbles up from somewhere beneath the rocks, feeding a pool of water. Steam rises up in little curlicues from the mirrored surface. The whole thing is shaded by a canopy of gnarled olive trees with their branches interlocking overhead.

Beautiful.

Also, isolated. A place where someone could disappear and never be found.

Lukas swings down from the saddle. He loops the reins around a low-hanging branch, then comes back and plucks me off the horse with the same ease with which he put me onto it.

My knees buckle slightly when my sandals hit the gravel, but his grip steadies me. Then he releases me and steps back.

“I own everything you can see from here,” he says, sweeping a hand at the surrounding hills. His voice is conversational, almost pleasant. There’s trace of the anger he was just channeling for our death ride here. “For kilometers in every direction.”

I swallow hard. “That’s… nice?”

“It means there’s no one around, Ms. Everett.” His sunglasses are clipped to the collar of his shirt, so I can see the full shine of his gunmetal eyes. “No neighbors, no tourists, no hikers. Not. One. Living. Soul.”

Now that he mentions it, the grotto feels a bit less idyllic all of the sudden.

And just in case I didn’t get the memo, he adds…

“That means there’s no one who could hear you scream.”

Oh.

Right.

Jillian’s voice pops up in my head, tinny and distant:His wife didn’t just die, Rae. She disappeared. They never found the body.

Is this how it happened? Did he bring Elena to some beautiful, isolated spot just like this one? Did he charm her, seduce her, make her think she was special—and then… and then…

I take an involuntary step backward. My heel catches on a rock and I stumble.

Lukas watches me. “You wanted to know who I really am,” he says quietly. “Didn’t you, Rae?”

I keep retreating, but it’s hard progress. My sandals continue sliding on the slick moss underfoot. “Lukas, I?—”