He wanted to shoot me again just to get off on it. He was a demon without a leash. There was no telling what he might do.
They obviously needed me for something. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be alive. If they wanted to torture my father and punish him, it would make sense to execute his only daughter. But I was still sitting there, the painkillers kicking in. “On with it.” Perhaps I was bolder than usual because I knew I had some sort of power in this game.
“You know Damien well, obviously,” he began. “But we haven’t had the pleasure of meeting. I’m Micah.”
“And you know who I am,” I said, not bothering with an introduction. “Where is my father?”
“In the building.” Micah wore a gold ring on his finger with a green emerald in the center. His hands showed his age, the veins mixing with the wrinkles. He must be a few years younger than my father. “The specifics don’t matter.”
“They matter if you want my cooperation.” My father taught me to always be strong, regardless of the opponent I faced. Earning your enemy’s respect was the only saving grace you would ever receive. And if your fate was unavoidable, it was best to go out with honor. I was too proud to kneel for anyone—because that was how I was raised.
Damien gave a slow grin. “You’re lucky you’re alive right now.”
I glanced to him. “As are you.”
He widened his grin farther, hating me but wanting me at the same time. His green eyes were set in a handsome face, his masculine cheekbones complementing his full lips. He was a beautiful man, but he was tainted by such evil, his handsomeness got lost in translation.
Micah ignored his right-hand man. “If your father remains in my captivity, I will torture him and kill him.”
I maintained the exact same expression, just as I would in a poker game. My brother was part of the family business, but he hadn’t been mentioned once. He must have disappeared before they could get to him—and now they had no idea where he’d gone into hiding. He would never tell me, so it was pointless to ask. “I assumed. What do you want from me?” I didn’t have special skills or any interaction with the family business, so I didn’t have much to offer. Even my information was useless because I’d turned my back on the trade. That should be obvious to them—if they did their research.
“We’ll make a trade with you,” Micah offered. “One man for another.”
I narrowed my eyes automatically, the fear involuntarily controlling my reactions. The only person they could possibly want was my brother—and that was a trade I refused to make. They could threaten to kill me again, and it still wouldn’t make a difference. “You have a building full of capable men at your disposal. Why are you asking me?”
“This man is untouchable.” Micah pulled out a folder from the inside of his jacket and set it on the table between us.
I didn’t open it. “If he’s untouchable, I’m a terrible person to ask. I may be a good shot, but I’m no assassin.” I couldn’t pull off any kind of stunt. I lived a quiet life outside of Florence. I went to work every day at the gallery, spent time with my friends, had a few dates here and there, and then went home.
“We don’t want you to kill him.” Micah pushed the folder closer to me. “We need this man alive. Bring him to us, and your father goes free.”
I couldn’t allow myself to think about my father’s condition. He was probably locked up in a room with no windows and barely a cot. Maybe he deserved it because of his business, but it broke my heart to imagine him that way. If there were anything I could do for him, I would. “As I’ve already said, I have no skills. I’m an art buyer.”
Damien watched me with those malicious eyes. “Give yourself more credit, sweetheart.”
I kept my gaze on Micah so I wouldn’t rip out Damien’s throat. “Who is this man?”
Micah grabbed his glass again, but instead of drinking from it, he held it in his palm. “Cato Marino.”
That name meant nothing to me.
Micah must have recognized the blankness in my eyes because he elaborated. “He owns the biggest bank in the world. He hides money for the Chinese, has ties with the vaults in Switzerland, and half the debt of the United States can be attributed