He slapped her arm away, the numbing blow radiated up and down her arm, and the shard fell from her fingers.

He grabbed the front of her dress, catching the pendant along with the sangria-stained bodice and pulled her up, lifting her from the floor until even her feet were dangling.

He was far stronger than she’d imagined. She kicked out, but had no leverage. She was like a cartoon character, flailing, as he held her aloft.

Her dress tore. She slipped from his hand. The pendant chain remained in his grip and went taut before it gave under her weight as she fell to the bed of broken glass.

She looked up to see Reuben clutching the pendant as he stood above her.

He shoved the necklace into his pocket, then kicked her in the ribs. She curled into a ball, no longer thinking of counter maneuvers. Instinct said to protect ribs and vital organs.

He kicked her again. “Oh, how I’ve fantasized about this, baby sister. And to think I almost cheated myself of this moment when I ordered Benny to snatch you.”

Chapter Fifty-Two

The moment Reuben smashed Kira’s phone, Rand told Vicki he was done with as much calm as he could muster. He couldn’t let on to Laskin, who was most certainly monitoring him, that he’d been listening in on Kira the entire time.

It took every ounce of self-control for him to calmly pack up the computer and organize his files. No sense of the urgency he was feeling showed in his movements.

Did Laskin know what was happening in the gallery? Freya had checked the security camera feeds on the network and didn’t find cameras in the room full of priceless art. But then, it was a private home, not a museum. Plus, it was clear Reuben believed their conversation was private. He’d certainly admitted to things he didn’t want Grigory to know.

Rand crossed to the door when he heard the sound of shattering glass through his headphones. He didn’t lose stride. Assuming Kira would be safer in Laskin’s household as opposed to Kulik’s had been an epic fuckup. But then, they hadn’t known Laskin would leave the siblings alone, or that Kira would learn enough from their conversation to make herself a clear and present danger to Reuben.

He reached for the doorknob and yanked it down. It didn’t budge.

He was locked in.

He hesitated. It was imperative that his activities of the last two hours remain secret if he and Kira were going to leave this house alive. He could save Kira, but only if he stuck to his role.

He kicked at the door and cursed. “Funny fucking joke, asshole.” He directed his voice down the hall, toward the office where Grigory’s flunky worked.

He kicked at the knob again then spotted the flunky through the window as he ran toward the conference room door. He was almost there when Rand’s fourth kick shattered the frame and the door slammed open. Splinters of wood sprayed the hall and man.

“What the fuck? Mr. Laskin will—” He ran out of words as he took in the damage.

“If you didn’t want me to break the door, you shouldn’t have locked me in.”

“What kind of asshole destroys a door like that? I gave you my cell number!”

“This kind of asshole. What were you thinking, locking me in?”

“You shouldn’t have been in the tech room! And the maid doesn’t belong in this hall!”

Rand was glad to confirm the guy had acted on his own. He probably thought he was being clever in locking the door. Nadia out. Rand in.

Think again, asshole.

“One of us is Grigory’s guest. The other is his tool. Guess which one you are?”

Rand would feel bad if the guy didn’t work for a murdering prick. But also, he’d locked Rand in a conference room when Kira needed him. He pushed him aside, perhaps putting a little unnecessary force in the motion, and continued down the hall.

He’d tuned out the sounds while dealing with man and door, but he vaguely remembered hearing Reuben express delight at hurting his sister.

The house was massive, and Kira was at the far end from the office wing. He wanted to run. Could he run?

Laskin didn’t have a camera on him now.

In his ear, Freya said, “Her phone is dead and the pendant camera and mic just went down. I don’t know where she is.”

Rand ran. As he did, he said, “She must still be in the house. It’s only been a few minutes.” He’d made a mistake and spoken directly to Freya, but he didn’t care. 

Where. Is. Kira?

He located the gallery and spotted an overturned pillar. Broken glass littered the floor. That must’ve been the crash he’d heard. He spotted streaks of blood on the floor by the glass shards.

Kira’s blood?

Footsteps behind him had him turning toward the door. He recognized Aleksandr from his photos. “Where is Kira?”

“Who are you?”

“Her boyfriend.”

Aleksandr smirked. “This is awkward. She’s my fiancée.”

He put menace into his voice. “Where is she?”

Aleksandr’s gaze dropped to the shards and blood. “She had a mishap and is getting cleaned up.”

“Bullshit.”

The familiar beat of a helicopter coming to life sounded from outside, growing louder as the blades picked up speed.

Rand shoved past Laskin’s son and searched for an exit. He spotted a door to the pool area and yanked it open. He skirted the infinity pool, following the sound of rotor blades to a field beyond the gardens.

The helicopter lifted. He scanned the cabin for a sign Kira was inside. The sun reflected off the window. All he could see was blinding yellow light. After the helo cleared the buildings and trees, the tail swung around and headed southeast. Back to the island of Malta.

Was Reuben taking her home, or someplace even worse?

Chapter Fifty-Three

Teague’s hunch about the hiring and security clearance of Ben Kinder paid off. At least, everyone thought it had.

It didn’t take long to identify a pattern of questionable clearances in the last eight months. Five men all taking low-level jobs with base access. Three were civilian employees at JEB Little Creek. They all had impeccable résumés that made them overqualified for jobs on the lower end of the government pay scale. Two worked for military housing—which was run by a contractor, but employees still had a background check. Odds were, the person who’d cleared each applicant had a big, fat bank account waiting for them in Malta. Laskin and Kulik didn’t even have to fuss with international banking to make the payoff.