I don’t mind her curiosity, even though I know she silently condemns what I do. The idea that I supply weapons to criminals and the often-brutal methods I use to maintain control over the business are anathema to Nora. She doesn’t understand that if I didn’t do this, someone else would, and the world would not necessarily be safer or better. Drug lords and dictators would get their weapons one way or another. The only question is who would profit from it—and I would prefer that person to be me.

I know Nora doesn’t agree with that reasoning, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t need her approval—all I need is her.

And I have her. She’s with me so much that I’m beginning to forget what it feels like not to have her by my side. We’re rarely apart for more than a few hours at a time, and when we are, I miss her so intensely, it’s like a physical ache in my chest. I have no idea how I had been able to leave her alone on the island for days or even weeks at a time. Now I don’t even like to see Nora go for a run without me, so I do my best to accompany her when she sprints around the estate in late afternoon.

I do that because I want my wife’s company, but also to make sure that she’s safe. Though my enemies can’t steal her here, there are snakes, spiders, and poisonous frogs in the area. And in the nearby rainforest, there are jaguars and other jungle predators. The chances of her getting stung or seriously hurt by a wild animal are small, but I’m not willing to risk it. I can’t bear the thought of any harm coming to her. When Nora had her appendicitis attack, I’d nearly gone out of my mind with panic—and that was before my addiction to her reached this new, utterly insane level.

My fear of losing her is starting to border on the pathological. I recognize that, but I don’t know how to control it. It’s a sickness that seems to have no cure. I worry about Nora constantly, obsessively. I want to know where she is at every moment of every day. She’s rarely out of my sight, but when she is, I can’t concentrate, my mind conjuring up deadly accidents that could befall her and other frightening scenarios.

“I want you to put two guards on Nora,” I tell Lucas one morning. “I want them to tail her whenever she walks around the estate, so they can make sure nothing happens to her.”

“All right.” Lucas doesn’t blink at my unusual request. “I’ll work with Peter to free up two of our best men.”

“Good. And I want them to text me a report on her every hour on the dot.”

“Consider it done.”

The guards’ hourly reports keep my fears at bay for a couple of weeks—until I get an email that turns my world upside down.