I showed up at my husband’s office holding our 6-year-old daughter’s hand to surprise him with dinner, only for his secretary to step in my path and smirk that his real wife and son were already upstairs waiting.

The room erupted.

“Emily, no!” James shouted.

“Are you crazy?” Marcus said, grabbing my arm. “You can't do this! He's lying! He'll never tell us the truth even if you agree! He'll take you and kill you both!”

I pulled my arm away.

“What choice do we have?” I said. “We have nineteen hours. No leads. No way to find her. If we don't do this, Grace dies. If I do this... at least there's a chance.”

I looked at Nathan.

“I'll agree to your terms,” I said. “But first, you give us the address. You prove Grace is there. Once we have her safe, then I'll help you escape. Then I'll go with you.”

Nathan smiled.

“Smart girl,” he said. “Always were the smart one. But no deal. You help me escape first. We get out of the country. Once we're safe, then I tell you where Grace is. Then you can call your brothers and send them to get her.”

“That's not happening,” William said. “You give us the address now, or the deal is off.”

“Then the deal is off,” Nathan said, shrugging. He leaned back in his chair, the chains rattling. “I guess we'll see how tough you are when the little girl's finger shows up in the mail tomorrow morning.”

He stood.

“Take me back to my cell,” he said to the guard. “I'm done here.”

“Wait!” I said.

He stopped.

“I'll do it,” I said. “Your way. But if one hair on her head is harmed... if she's scared, or hurt, or anything but perfectly fine when we get her back... I will kill you myself. With my bare hands. Do you understand me?”

Nathan's smile widened.

“Perfect,” he said. “Here's how it's going to work.”

He laid out the plan.

The warden—already in our pocket—would arrange for Nathan to be transferred to a minimum-security hospital for a “medical evaluation” the next morning. On the way, the transport van would be “hijacked” by Marcus's men. Nathan would be taken to a private airfield, where a plane would be waiting. I would be on that plane. We would fly to a non-extradition country—Belize, where Nathan had already arranged for a house and new identities.

Once we landed and were safe, Nathan would call and give the exact location of the Rizzos' safe house where Grace was being held.

“And if you try to trick me,” Nathan said, “if there's a tracker on the plane, if the FBI is waiting, if your brothers try to rescue you before I make the call... Grace dies. Instantly. The Rizzos have standing orders. If they don't hear from me by the time we land... they kill her.”

We left the prison at four in the morning.

The drive back to the safe house was silent.

My brothers were furious. Disappointed. Scared.

“You don't have to do this, Em,” James said, over and over. “We can find another way. We have the best trackers in the world. We can monitor every Rizzo associate. We can—”

“There's no time, James,” I said. “Nineteen hours. That's it. Every minute we spend arguing is a minute Grace is sitting in that room, scared to death. I'm doing this. And none of you can stop me.”

When we got back to the safe house, Victoria was waiting up. She'd put Oliver to bed, but she couldn't sleep.

I told her the plan.

She listened in silence. When I finished, she didn't argue. She didn't tell me I was crazy.

She just walked over and hugged me.

“You're the bravest person I know,” she said. “And Grace is going to know that. One day, she's going to understand exactly what her mother did for her.”

She pulled back, looking me in the eye.

“But you're not just going to give yourself to him, are you?” she said quietly. “You have a plan.”

I looked at my brothers.

“Of course we have a plan,” Marcus said. “We let Nathan think he's won. We let him take Emily to the airfield. We let him get on the plane. But the second he gives us the address and confirms Grace is safe... we take him down. And Emily comes home.”

“It's risky,” William said. “Nathan will be looking for tricks. If he suspects anything before he makes that call—”

“He won't,” I said. “I'll make sure of it. I'll play the part. I'll convince him I'm doing this because I still love him. Because I choose him over the Carters. He wants to believe it. He's always wanted to believe it. That's his weakness.”

I stood.

“Now, if you'll excuse me,” I said. “I have a daughter to rescue. And a monster to outsmart.”

The next morning, everything happened exactly as planned.

The warden called. Nathan was being transferred. The transport van left the prison at nine a.m. At nine-forty-five, it was “hijacked” on a quiet stretch of highway. Nathan was pulled out, unbound, and driven to the private airfield in Westchester.

I was waiting by the plane when they arrived.

Nathan got out of the car. He was wearing civilian clothes now—jeans, a button-down shirt, a leather jacket. He looked almost like the man I'd married eight years ago.

Almost.

“Emily,” he said, walking toward me with his arms open. “You actually came.”

I let him hug me. I forced myself to relax in his arms. To pretend.

“I told you I would,” I said, pulling back to look at him. “I love you, Nathan. I always have. All the lies... all the fighting... it was just a mistake. We can start over. Just you and me. Like we were meant to be.”

His face lit up. For a second, he looked like the boy from Brooklyn again—the one I'd fallen in love with.

“I knew it,” he said. “I knew you still loved me. The Carters turned you against me. Made you say those things on TV. But none of it was real. This is real. Us.”

He took my hand.

“Come on,” he said. “Let's go. Our new life is waiting.”

We climbed onto the plane.

It was a small private jet—luxurious, fast, capable of flying nonstop to Belize. The pilot was already in the cockpit. The engines were warming up.

As we sat down, Nathan pulled out a satellite phone.

“First things first,” he said. “I call the Rizzos. Tell them the deal is done. Tell them to keep Grace safe until I give them the address to release her.”

He dialed.

“Rizzo,” he said into the phone. “It's done. I'm out. On the plane with Emily. Everything is going exactly as we planned. You keep the girl safe. You don't touch a hair on her head. I'll call you in three hours with the location where you can leave her. And then we're even. All debts are paid.”

He listened for a moment, then hung up.

“Good,” he said, smiling at me. “She's fine. They're moving her to a new location now—somewhere even your brothers won't find her until I say so. Three hours. When we're over the ocean, out of reach of anyone, then I give the order. Then she's free.”

The plane began to taxi.

I looked out the window.

Three cars were parked at the edge of the tarmac. I knew my brothers were in them. Watching. Waiting.

Marcus would have men on the plane. Hidden. Waiting for the signal.

The pilot came over the intercom.

“Ready for takeoff,” he said.

The plane accelerated down the runway. Lifted into the air.

New York fell away beneath us.

Nathan squeezed my hand.

“Can you believe it?” he said. “We're actually doing it. Just you and me. Forever.”

I smiled at him.

“Forever,” I said.

But inside, I was counting the minutes.

Three hours.

In three hours, Nathan would make the call. He would give the address where Grace was being released.

And then the nightmare would finally be over.

Or so I thought.

An hour into the flight, Nathan stood and walked to the cockpit. He spoke to the pilot for a few minutes in a low voice. When he came back, his smile was gone.

“Change of plans,” he said.

My stomach dropped.

“What do you mean?” I said.

“I mean,” he said, sitting down next to me, “that I'm not as stupid as your brothers think I am. I knew they'd have men on the plane. I knew they'd be tracking us. I knew the second I gave them Grace's location, they'd kill me and take you back.”

He pulled a gun from his waistband.

“Nathan,” I said, my heart hammering. “What are you doing?”

“The pilot is working for me,” he said. “Not the Carters. We're not going to Belize. We're going somewhere else. Somewhere no one will ever find us. Somewhere we can be together. Just the two of us. For real this time.”

“But Grace—” I started.

“Grace is fine,” he said. “The Rizzos will keep her. For now. Once we're settled, once I'm sure no one is following us, then I'll make the call. Then she can go home to her precious uncles. But not until I'm safe. Not until I know you're really mine.”

He leaned closer, the gun pressing into my side.

“You thought you could outsmart me, Emily? You thought you could play the loving wife and then betray me again? Not this time. This time, you're mine. Whether you like it or not.”

The plane banked sharply, turning north instead of south.

I looked out the window.

The Atlantic Ocean stretched out below us. Endless. Empty.

I was trapped.

Thirty thousand feet in the air.