And as he lets out a terrified scream, I slice him open, watching the blood spill out in a dark, beautiful river of red.

After I wipe my hands on the towel someone thoughtfully left in the van, I open the door and jump out. Lucas is waiting for me, so I tell him to dispose of the body and head back into the house.

It’s strange, but I don’t feel much better. The kill should’ve relieved some of the pressure, eased the burning need for violence, but instead, it seems to have only added to it, the emptiness inside me growing and darkening with every moment.

I want Nora. I need her more than ever. But when I enter the house, the first thing I do is head into the shower. I’m covered in blood and gore, and I don’t want her to see me like this.

Like the savage murderer her parents accused me of being.

When I emerge, the first thing I do is check the tracking app for Nora’s location. To my intense disappointment, she’s still in Rosa’s room. I contemplate going there to retrieve her, but I decide to give her a few more minutes and catch up on some work in the meantime.

When I open my laptop, I see that my inbox is filled with the usual messages. Russians, Ukrainians, the Islamic State, supplier contract changes, a security leak at one of the Indonesian factories… I scan it all with disinterest until I come upon an email from Frank, my CIA contact.

Opening it, I read it swiftly—and my insides grow cold.

31

Nora

“Hey there.” Balancing a tray with tea and sandwiches in my hands, I push open the door to Rosa’s bedroom and approach her bed.

She’s lying on her side, facing away from the door, a blanket wrapped tightly around her. Setting the tray down on the nightstand, I sit down on the edge of her bed and gently touch her shoulder. “Rosa? Are you okay?”

She rolls over to face me, and I almost flinch at the bruising on her face.

“Pretty bad, huh?” she asks, noticing my reaction. Her voice sounds a little scratchy, but she looks remarkably calm, her eyes dry in her swollen face.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it’s good,” I say carefully. “How are you feeling?”

“Possibly better than you,” she says quietly, looking at me. “I’m so sorry about the baby, Nora. I can’t even imagine what you and Julian must be going through.”

I nod, trying to ignore the stab of agony in my chest. “Thank you.” I force a smile to my lips. “Now, are you hungry? I brought you something to eat.”

Wincing, she sits up and glances dubiously at the tray. “You made this?”

“Of course. You know I’m capable of boiling water and putting cheese on bread, right? I used to do it all the time before Julian kidnapped me and made me live in luxury.”

A ghost of a smile flits across Rosa’s battered lips. “Ah, yes. Those dark times in the past when you had to fend for yourself.”