Noa’s breath cracked out of him, the sea wind slicing his skin as he stared at the photo burning on his phone screen. Luca. Dominik had sent him a picture of Luca. Tied to a chair, same setup, same game, same fucking trap. Only this time, the message hit harder.

Your next target’s already in play. Let’s see if you’ll shoot him. -D.

Noa’s grip tightened on the phone until his knuckles went white, his whole body trembling as the boat’s engine roared beneath him, carrying him away from ...