Z

The lake house looked peaceful from the road.

That was the first thing Gabriel distrusted.

Snow covered the roof.

A weak yellow porch light illuminated the front steps.

Bare trees surrounded the property.

Beyond them, Lake Geneva stretched beneath a black winter sky.

Marco lowered binoculars.

“Two cars.”

“Mitchell?”

“Cadillac’s his.”

“Connor?”

“Black Mercedes registered to a shell company tied to Ward.”

Dominic sat in the second SUV with a laptop open.

Federal agents were fifteen minutes away.

Gabriel wanted ten.

The difference mattered.

“We wait,” Dominic said through the radio.

Gabriel stared at the house.

“Gabriel.”

“I heard you.”

“Then pretend you occasionally respect legal procedure.”

“Difficult.”

Marco almost smiled.

Then movement appeared inside.

A curtain shifted.

Someone crossed the upstairs hall.

Gabriel’s phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

He answered.

“Rossi.”

Connor Kane laughed.

Gabriel’s face went still.

“Six years.”

“Connor.”

“I wondered how long it would take you.”

“You wanted to be found.”

“Eventually.”

Gabriel stared at the house.

“What do you want?”

“Conversation.”

“Then come outside.”

Connor laughed again.

“You always were impatient.”

“I’m standing in twelve-degree weather.”

“Still dramatic.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.

“You have thirty seconds.”

“Actually, I think you’ll stay exactly where you are.”

Something in Connor’s voice changed.

Gabriel immediately knew.

“What did you do?”

Inside the penthouse in Chicago, Harper carried a mug of tea toward the library.

Rosa had gone upstairs.

Two security men stood near the elevator.

Harper had refused to accompany Gabriel, which had not stopped her from hating that he had left.

She entered the library.

The lights flickered.

Then went out.

Harper froze.

“Rosa?”

Emergency lighting should have activated.

It did not.

From the hallway came a dull sound.

A body hitting something.

Harper’s blood turned cold.

She backed toward Gabriel’s desk.

Footsteps.

Slow.

Controlled.

The door opened.

A man stepped inside.

Tall.

Dark jacket.

Gun low against his thigh.

Harper stopped breathing.

“Miss Monroe.”

She had never seen him.

But she knew.

Men like him did not need introductions.

“Who are you?”

“Felix Ward.”

At Lake Geneva, Gabriel heard Connor speak.

“I told Mitchell you were predictable.”

Gabriel’s eyes hardened.

“What did you do?”

“You took Harper to your home.”

Gabriel went completely still.

Dominic looked up from the laptop.

“What?”

Connor continued.

“You surround yourself with expensive security, encrypted elevators, private cameras.”

Gabriel’s stomach dropped.

“But security systems,” Connor said, “are only as strong as the people who install them.”

Gabriel ended the call.

“Marco!”

Already moving.

Marco contacted Chicago.

No response.

Dominic’s face changed.

“Network’s down.”

Gabriel called Harper.

Nothing.

Again.

Nothing.

“Turn around,” Dominic said.

Gabriel was already in the SUV.

They drove south faster than any sane person should have driven on ice.

Inside the penthouse, Harper stared at Felix.

“What do you want?”

“The notebook.”

“I don’t have it.”

“I know.”

Felix stepped closer.

“But Rossi does.”

“Then ask him.”

“I intend to.”

He raised the gun.

“After you call him.”

Harper’s heart hammered.

“No.”

Felix smiled.

“Mitchell said you’d become difficult.”

Something changed in Harper’s expression.

“You talked to Mitchell?”

“Of course.”

“Does Connor know you’re here?”

Felix paused.

Small.

But enough.

Harper saw it.

Interesting.

Maybe these men trusted each other less than they pretended.

“You’re stalling,” Felix said.

“Yes.”

His smile faded.

At the desk, Harper’s fingers moved behind her.

Gabriel had shown her earlier that day how the silent alarm worked.

A small button beneath the edge.

She had mocked him for having a button worthy of an old mafia movie.

Now she prayed the backup circuit still functioned.

Her fingertip found it.

Pressed once.

Nothing happened.

Felix stepped closer.

“Phone.”

“I don’t have one.”

He pointed toward the desk.

“Call him.”

Harper moved slowly.

Her ribs hurt.

Felix mistook that for fear.

Good.

Let him.

She lifted Gabriel’s office phone.

No dial tone.

Felix cursed.

“The system’s down.”

“You’re the one who broke it.”

“Cell.”

Harper pulled Gabriel’s spare phone from the drawer.

Felix took it.

No signal.

He looked irritated.

“Jammer,” he muttered.

“You brought it.”

“Not mine.”

Harper understood.

Someone else inside Gabriel’s building had activated it.

A second team.

Felix looked toward the hall.

For the first time, he appeared uneasy.

Then gunfire sounded downstairs.

Harper ducked.

Felix turned.

She grabbed the heaviest object within reach.

A bronze horse sculpture.

She swung it into his wrist.

The gun dropped.

Felix swore.

Harper ran.

Pain ripped through her ribs.

She reached the hallway.

One security guard appeared from the stairwell.

Blood streaked his forehead.

“Miss Monroe!”

“Felix!”

The guard raised his weapon.

Felix fired first from the library doorway.

The bullet struck the wall.

Harper dropped behind a marble console.

The guard returned fire.

Felix disappeared back into the office.

“Go upstairs!” the guard shouted.

Harper crawled toward the staircase.

Her phone—Gabriel’s actual secure phone—vibrated inside the pocket of the borrowed sweater.

One bar of signal.

Gabriel.

She answered.

“Gabriel?”

His voice came violently through the speaker.

“Harper.”

“I’m here.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

Gunfire sounded behind her.

Gabriel’s breathing changed.

“Where are you?”

“Hallway.”

“Who’s inside?”

“Felix Ward.”

Silence.

Then Gabriel’s voice became terrifyingly calm.

“Listen to me.”

“I am.”

“Go to my bedroom.”

“Why?”

“Safe room behind the closet.”

“What?”

“Inside the wardrobe. Left panel. Code 0814.”

Harper ran upstairs.

“Where are you?”

“Ten minutes away.”

“Connor knew.”

“I know.”

“Gabriel, there’s someone else inside. Felix didn’t know about the jammer.”

Gabriel absorbed that immediately.

“Someone betrayed us.”

“Yes.”

Harper entered the bedroom.

The closet was enormous.

“Left panel.”

She found it.

Keypad.

0814.

A steel door opened.

Then Harper stopped.

A noise behind her.

Footsteps.

She turned.

A man stood at the bedroom entrance.

Not Felix.

One of Gabriel’s security men.

Harper recognized him.

Leon.

He had brought her breakfast earlier.

Relief almost came.

Then she saw the gun pointed at her.

“Oh,” she whispered.

Leon smiled sadly.

“Sorry.”

Harper backed toward the safe room.

“Why?”

“Money.”

“That simple?”

“Usually is.”

He moved closer.

“Felix wants the notebook.”

“It isn’t here.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you here?”

Leon’s smile vanished.

“Because Connor wants you.”

Harper’s blood froze.

“Why?”

“To control Rossi.”

Harper almost laughed.

“Then Connor doesn’t know Gabriel very well.”

Leon grabbed her arm.

Harper cried out.

Pain exploded.

He pulled her away from the safe room.

Then a voice came from the doorway.

“Take your hand off her.”

Everyone froze.

Gabriel stood there.

Snow still covered the shoulders of his black coat.

A gun rested steadily in his hand.

His face held no emotion.

That was worse than rage.

Leon moved the weapon toward Harper.

Gabriel did not blink.

“I said,” he repeated, “take your hand off her.”

Leon tightened his grip.

“You shoot me, she gets hit.”

Gabriel’s eyes met Harper’s.

Just once.

She understood nothing.

Then everything.

Harper slammed her heel down on Leon’s foot.

Twisted.

Dropped.

Gabriel fired.

The gun flew from Leon’s hand.

Marco stormed through the doorway.

Leon hit the floor.

Gabriel crossed the room in seconds.

He stopped in front of Harper.

Did not touch her.

“Can I?”

She nodded.

Only then did he place both hands gently against her face.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

His forehead lowered briefly against hers.

Harper closed her eyes.

Neither spoke.

Downstairs, Marco’s men secured Felix.

Sirens approached outside.

Gabriel stepped back.

Harper stared at him.

“You came back.”

His expression changed.

“Of course I came back.”

“Connor used me to pull you away.”

“Yes.”

“He got what he wanted.”

“No.”

“What do you mean?”

Gabriel looked toward Marco.

Marco held up a phone.

“Federal team hit the lake house thirty seconds after we left.”

Harper stared.

“Connor?”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Gone.”

“Mitchell?”

Marco smiled without humor.

“Not gone.”

Harper exhaled.

For the first time in three years, Mitchell Kane was in custody.

But Gabriel was not celebrating.

Because Connor had escaped.

Again.

And this time, everyone understood his target was no longer merely an old criminal empire.

It was Harper.