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“This is the woman you care about. The one you’ve been protecting. The one you’ve been keeping close.” He leans down, his mouth near my ear. “Tell him, sweetheart. Tell him how much it hurts.”

I don’t say anything. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

Callum sighs, like I’ve disappointed him. Then he hits me.

His fist connects with my jaw, and my head snaps to the side. Pain explodes across my face, bright and blinding, and I taste blood where my cheek has split against my teeth.

“That’s just the beginning,” he says, still addressing the camera. “You took everything from me, Maxim. My position, my reputation, my life. Now I’m going to take everything from you. Starting with her.”

He lets go of my hair and steps back, signaling to someone off-camera. The recording stops, and I’m dragged back to my spot on the floor.

The men tie me to the pipe again and leave. Callum stays, watching me with those flat, empty eyes.

“You know,” he says, almost conversationally, “the funny thing is, I almost didn’t survive. Those bullets missed my heart by inches, and the fire nearly finished the job. I spent months in a hospital in Prague, and another year learning how to walk again. The whole time, all I could think about was what he did to me. How he looked at me with those cold blue eyes and pulled the trigger like it was nothing.”

I don’t respond. My jaw is throbbing, and I can feel my cheek swelling where he hit me.

“He’s a monster,” Callum continues. “You might think you know him, but you don’t. You don’t know what he’s capable of. The things he’s done…” He shakes his head. “You’re just a tool to him. A means to an end. The moment you stop being useful, he’ll throw you away like everyone else.”

“Maybe,” I manage, my voice rough. “At least he didn’t tie me to a pipe and punch me in the face.”

Callum laughs. It’s not a pleasant sound. “You’ve got spirit. I’ll give you that, but spirit won’t save you when he doesn’t come.”

“He’ll come.”

“You sound sure of that.”

“He’ll come,” I say again. “When he does, you’ll regret this.”

Callum just smiles and walks away.

***

Time passes. I don’t know how much—hours, maybe, or longer. My whole body aches, and the ropes have rubbed my wrists raw. I drift in and out of consciousness, my thoughts fragmented and hazy.

At some point, I hear shouting. Then gunfire.

I force my eyes open and see chaos. Callum’s men are running, grabbing weapons, shouting to each other in panicked voices. And in the middle of it all, I see a figure I recognize.

Ethan.

He’s moving through the space like a soldier, his movements precise and controlled. He’s got a gun in one hand and a knife in the other, and he’s cutting through Callum’s men with an efficiency that makes my stomach turn.

“Davina!” He spots me across the room and starts making his way toward me, fighting off attackers as he goes. “Are you hurt?”

I try to answer, but my voice won’t come. I nod instead, hoping he understands.

He reaches me and starts cutting through my ropes. His hands are gentle, but his eyes are scanning the room, watching for threats.

“We’re getting you out of here,” he says. “The agency tracked your location. I’ve got a team outside—”

The words die in his throat as Callum appears from nowhere, swinging a metal pipe that connects with Ethan’s side. Ethan grunts and stumbles, and suddenly there are men everywhere, swarming him like ants on sugar.

Ethan fights. He fights harder than I’ve ever seen anyone fight, taking down three of Callum’s men before they overwhelm him. But there are too many of them, and they’re too strong, and within minutes he’s on the floor, blood pouring from a wound on his head.

“No!” I scream, struggling against the ropes that Ethan didn’t finish cutting. “No, no, no!”

Callum walks over to where Ethan lies groaning and kicks him in the ribs. “That’s one of your rescuers. Any more surprises you want to try?”