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No. I don’t feel that way about Yorgos. I never did. But that’s not going to help me in that situation. “What’s your point?”

“Raven filled me in on the details. The job now, to betray and kill him. Wow. I’m impressed. I don’t think I could do it.” He pours another shot of ouzo and hands it to me. “And to think it’s going to happen in the next few hours.”

“What?” How much did he give me? I’m not following the logic train. Or maybe I don’t want to follow it.

“Okay, not a few hours. Twelve to twenty-four. I just sent him a ransom note. The files we want or I kill you. You think he’ll show?”

Yes, of course. This is what he’s after. A source as good as Yorgos. And he’ll probably bargain for my life, too. After all, he can’t put me in jail if I’m dead. Where’s the fun in punishing a corpse? But— “He’ll still keep copies.”

“Of course. That’s why we’ll torture him when he gets here.” He taps his head, impressed by his own brilliance. “But don’t worry, beautiful. I’ll handle all the messy stuff.”

So he⁠—

Shit.

I try to find some other explanation, but my thoughts aren’t moving quickly enough. “Can you repeat that?”

“Jamie, you know what’s going to happen here.”

“You’re going to hurt him?” I ask.

He nods of course. “I’ll be the one to torture and kill him.”

Right.

What else would happen?

That’s why I took this job.

Because anyone else would be cruel.

Yorgos will enjoy causing Matteo pain.

I know all this. And I’m lucid enough to talk my way out of this.

We stay alive until tomorrow.

The rest is a problem tomorrow.

Yorgos continues, oblivious to my inner conflict. “I don’t expect anything in return. I know you won’t be in the mood after this. And I don’t blame you. I mean look at this.” He picks up the phone and fast-forwards to the part of the video where Matteo buries his head between my legs. “I should ask the man for a few tips first, huh. I’m not sure I’ve never gotten a woman to groan at this low a roar.” He turns up the audio so my groan fills the room.

His eyes go wide as he watches.

The memory centers me. That video isn’t our best work. It was early. I was still awkward at the whole thing.

But we do fall into it here. That groan is real.

And Matteo is good at this. Really good at this.

It’s too bad Yorgos can’t see much of the action. Cunnilingus doesn’t photograph well. The head blocks most of the action.

I almost laugh. Only it’s not funny. I might never feel his head between my legs again.

And, yes, I could make some joke about how I better savor every last time, because we all die or whatever⁠—

But it’s just not fucking funny.

I need to think. Or at least keep him talking.