My husband has gone back to the man who put our names on a death list.
Santiago Blanco.
Twelve years older. Ruthlessly possessive. The man who sleeps with his hand on my waist and a gun beside our bed.
Now he’s standing beside Alejandro Correa again.
The man who walked free while I buried my father and sister.
Luciana left me a ledger.
Santiago needs to get close enough to help me use it.
And Alejandro’s price is a marriage that looks broken.
Ours.
In public, my husband lets Miami believe he regrets choosing me.
Behind locked doors, he pulls me into his lap and tells me none of it is real.
Then our son’s crib is empty.
Someone has taken Max.
Santiago reaches for his gun.
I reach for my phone.
The man on the other end wants the ledger. The recordings. Every copy.
Then he tells us who has to deliver them.
My husband promised he would never let that man touch me.
Now handing me over is the price of bringing our son home.
Santiago Blanco.
Twelve years older. Ruthlessly possessive. The man who sleeps with his hand on my waist and a gun beside our bed.
Now he’s standing beside Alejandro Correa again.
The man who walked free while I buried my father and sister.
Luciana left me a ledger.
Santiago needs to get close enough to help me use it.
And Alejandro’s price is a marriage that looks broken.
Ours.
In public, my husband lets Miami believe he regrets choosing me.
Behind locked doors, he pulls me into his lap and tells me none of it is real.
Then our son’s crib is empty.
Someone has taken Max.
Santiago reaches for his gun.
I reach for my phone.
The man on the other end wants the ledger. The recordings. Every copy.
Then he tells us who has to deliver them.
My husband promised he would never let that man touch me.
Now handing me over is the price of bringing our son home.
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