“Shit!” He turned to the window. Beyond was the back garden, and she wondered if he was about to throw himself out onto the lawn and make a run for it.

With lightning speed he rammed the case into the safe, spun the combination lock and heaved the cabinet back into place.

Their visitor—or visitors—tried the bell.

Police? Drug dealers? Who else would he be so afraid of?

She gasped as he grabbed her by the neck with one hand and pressed her against the wall. “Remember, you know nothing,” he hissed into her face, “you’ve seen nothing, and you’ve heard nothing.”

She nodded, gasping for breath, clawing at his hand.

He let her go and pointed along the hall to the door. “Answer it, but if you even think about betraying me . . .” His eyes bored into hers; he didn’t have to tell her that it wouldn’t end well, she already knew.

She started to move, hardly knowing who or what to expect when she opened the door.

“Stop!” he seethed under his breath.

She turned around. “I don’t know where this is going to end,” he growled, “but just in case you get any ideas about leaving me, you’ll be watched; you won’t get away and if you try, I’ll find you and by then you’ll wish I hadn’t.”

She didn’t doubt him; she never had. She knew what he was capable of, and as he turned to the door she found herself hoping with all her heart and soul that he was about to be taken out, not merely taken away.

Chapter Two

“Are you sure you’re OK to drive?”

Claudia Winters glanced at her sixteen-year-old daughter, the one who was sounding like the parent right now, and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Sure,” she confirmed, and fixing her eyes on the road ahead, she pressed down on the accelerator to pull away from the curb. It was a jerky start, but it was a new car—bought with cash from a South London dealer who’d asked no questions—and at least she didn’t stall the engine.

“Don’t look back,” she advised Jasmine.

“Would it make a difference if I did?”

“Do you want to?”

“No! Let’s just go.”