Page 124 of The Scarab's Game

Be all right, Jenn. Just be all right.

“Tell me the safety’s on.” Dante stood at the helm, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness. Who could blame him, given the gun aimed at his back?

Rav’s response was flat and emotionless. “My finger’s not on the trigger. That’s as close as you’ll get to a safety.”

The plan was risky, but it was all we had. Dante would be our insurance policy, ensuring Massimo kept Enzo and the guards from opening fire once I handed over the disc.

Such a stupid decision, Emmett. You just had to tell Jayce to grab the disc, didn’t you? If you hadn’t been so hot-headed and just stuck to the job, you’d be back at the hotel with Jenn, safe and sound.

“It’s a solid plan, Emmett,” Rav said for the fifth time.

I muttered, “It’s not enough of a plan. There’s too much playing it by ear.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that,” said Rav.

Surprisingly, Scarlett didn’t chime in with a sarcastic comment. She was the one who refused jobs that were too risky or lacked sufficient planning time. Yet here I was, rushing headlong into what could very well be a trap.

“I can’t talk my way out of things with Enzo there.” If I evencouldtalk with him there. He was the one who haunted my nightmares. And now that monster had Jenn.

“She’s going to be all right, Emmett,” Rav reassured me, but his words did little to ease the knot in my stomach.

“This is my fault.”

Will’s voice carried through my earpiece. “Noah’s holding Jenn. Enzo, Massimo, and another guy are with them. I count four guns. She’s wearing a black jacket. I’m guessing Noah’s, since he’s without one. She’s… shit… she’s holding her cheek. They were out of view for a few minutes while I surveilled the rest of the yacht. I think he?—”

“Don’t say it.” I already knew—Enzo had happened. Rage surged through me, trying to push the nerves away.

Will continued his report, detailing the positions of the staff and potential threats. I barely registered his words, my mind consumed with images of Enzo’s hands on Jenn.

“Slow down, Dante,” Rav said.

“I know what I’m doing.” Either Dante was as indignant as he sounded, or he was getting into character as we got closer to our target.

Across the distance, Massimo’s face contorted with rage. He stepped ahead of the others, shouting something I couldn’t make out over the boat’s engine.

Good. The plan’s already working.

Two armed men on the yacht—one on the top deck and a bodyguard next to Massimo—trained their guns on me. Someone else guided a spotlight onto us.

I reached into my jacket pocket, fingers closing around the golden disc. I pulled it out, holding it high in the air so everyone could see. “We’re only here for the trade, not to make trouble!”

“Then let my son go!” Massimo shouted back.

I shook my head slightly. “As soon as we get back to shore safely.”

Dante skillfully maneuvered our boat alongside the deck at the yacht’s stern and cut the engine. He handled the vessel with impressive skill. Of course he did, if he grew up around yachts like this. If my own father hadn’t been in prison for most of my life, maybe he’d have taught me skills like this.

Focus, Em.

“I’m all right, Papa,” Dante called out, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “We can speak of revenge when I’m safely back on shore.”

Rav’s voice came from behind Dante, who he was using as a human shield. “Noah, you can confirm I pose no danger, unless your team thinks of double-crossing us or opening fire.”

Enzo’s face twisted into a snarl. He’d been on the wrong end of Rav’s fists after my kidnapping, and was likely stupid enough to want to try round two. Enzo grabbed Jenn by the hair, yanking her away from Noah. My stomach lurched as he pressed the muzzle of his gun to her head. “I don’t trust you.”

Jenn squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shrink away from the gun, and let out a tiny whimper. The sound tore at my heart, and I had to fight every instinct not to leap onto the yacht and tear Enzo apart with my bare hands. We had a plan. We had to stick to it.

Noah took a few steps toward our boat, his expression unreadable. “Rav’s telling the truth. He’s a man of honor.”

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