No. No. No.
"What do you think that means?"
It was so easy to tell that Justina was not lying, and Sarica could only follow Justina out of the car in a daze.
Why did Giancarlo still want her to leave?
Why?
Security let them pass through one of the private entrances at the side of the airport, and Justina motioned for Sarica to take a seat. "Wait here, please." She needed to look for the immigration officer she had spoken to earlier. The sooner she had Sarica aboard a plane, the sooner it would be better for all—-
No.
Fuck.
No.
Justina saw her worst nightmare come back to life at about the same time Sarica spotted Viktor Biancardi enter the same holding office from another door.
Sarica's mind urged her to run.
Because this was not her fight, and she was better off playing it safe.
But all she could do was stare as he walked closer and closer.
He was exactly as she remembered.
Tall and golden-haired.
Breathtakingly handsome like an angel.
The kind of man that no one would ever suspect of abducting women to sell them off as slaves. The kind of man who would arrange for his friend's murder if that was what it took to save his own neck.
Justina and Sarica turned to look at each other.
But when they looked back at Viktor at the same time—-
It was too late.
He had seen them, too, and the wild look in his eyes was that of a man who believed he had nothing to lose.
GIANCARLO AND HIS MENwere already at the airport when he received an urgent message from his security, telling him that both JustinaandSarica were at the same place he was.
No. God. No.
He ran as fast as he could.
But this, too, was exactly what he feared.
Viktor. Justina. And his Sarica.
They all saw him coming.
And falling.
His injury betraying him at the worst possible moment-—
Because he was no longer the same Giancarlo he once was.
