Nick is up again, taking advantage of the thicker man’s distraction to slam a fist into his jaw, but I don’t let up.
Once self-defense mode kicks in, I don’t stop until my assailant is fully disabled or out cold.
I pull my arm back, slamming a fist into Tony’s waist, right above his right kidney, and follow it with sharp kicks to the backs of both knees.
I’m a second away from wrapping my arm around his fat neck and showing him how fast a woman half his size can make him lose consciousness when Beatrice screams behind me, and a rumbling sound splits my focus.
Before I can turn to see what’s happened to Bea, a hand wraps around my neck—a giant hand that encircles my throat and drags me back against a solid wall of flesh covered by cold, damp fabric.
I reach for the gun tucked into the front of my life jacket, but another hand rips it from my fingers.
“Put it down,” Stefano growls, aiming the weapon at Nick, who’s now holding Tony’s paddle. “Put it down, or I break her neck. She’s small, like a kitten. I could do it in a heartbeat. Won’t even have to waste a bullet.”
Nick tosses the paddle against the far wall, where it clatters to the floor, out of reach of Tony, who’s still moaning on all fours.
But now Stefano has my gun.
That Tony wasn’t armed with something more serious than an oar makes me think this ambush with Blaire was a last-minute affair, something she and Stefano threw together without time for proper planning.
That’s good news for us, a weakness we can exploit.
Assuming Stefano doesn’t snap my neck first.
If there was more room, I’d have a decent chance of breaking his hold on me with a self-defense maneuver, but it’s tight in here, and Stefano has a gun on Nick. I didn’t hear him thumb the safety off, but I can’t take a chance like that.
I have to find some other way out.
I tell myself to think—and to draw deep breaths for as long as that remains possible. I can’t let panic put me at even more of a disadvantage than I am already.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“For you to shut up, little girl,” Stefano says, tightening his grip on my neck. “And let the adults talk.”
“Fine, then I’ll ask the questions,” Nick says, his voice rough. “What do you want? What does it take for you to let Zan and Beatrice walk away?”
“Beatrice comes with me,” Stefano says. “She’s part of this now. Forever.”
“That’s not your decision. It’s hers,” Nick says, his gaze flicking to my face before he shifts his attention back to Stefano.
He looks scared—for me, not himself—even though he’s the one with a gun aimed at his chest.
He’s such a good man, far better than I first gave him credit for.
I hope I get a chance to tell him that I admire him. That he deserved the promotion, and that I look forward to working with him for a long time to come.
We have to have more time.
I refuse to let it be stolen away when we’re so close. I can see the city of Kuta through the glass. In less than ten minutes, we’ll be within spitting distance of the Balinese Coast Guard, and they’re going to notice a boat barreling toward the reef as if some wasted party boy was at the helm.
But I’m sure Stefano has realized that, too.
Nick and I have to do something to shift the balance of power.
Fast.
“I’ll go with you,” I croak, struggling to swallow past the fingers banded around my throat. “I’ll go with you and Beatrice. I’ll help you get somewhere safe, and I won’t tell anyone where you are. I swear. Just promise we all leave this boat alive.”
Stefano lets out a sharp laugh. “I didn’t get to where I am by taking unnecessary risks, Kitten. Beatrice is out cold at the bottom of the stairs. She won’t give me any trouble. And neither will either of you.”
He waves the gun toward Tony, who has just pulled himself up with a hand braced against the control panel. “Go check on Bea, Tony, and take that paddle with you. My gun is trashed after being in the water, but you might need something to defend yourself if she comes around. She’s more of a fighter than I thought.”
Stefano chuckles, seeming pleased by Bea’s scrappiness, and his attention shifts back to Nick.
Tony shoots one last hateful look my way before scooping the paddle off the floor and limping from the room.
“I’ll tie up loose ends here,” Stefano adds in a softer voice.
He thumbs the safety with a click that echoes ominously in the tight space, and words explode from my lips. “If you kill us, it’s over for you. Our families, law enforcement, reporters—they’ll never stop looking for you. We’re not normal people. We’re members of a royal family, and Nick’s a social media celebrity. Every tabloid on earth will be frothing at the mouth over this story. Your picture will be everywhere. You’ll never make a move under the radar again, and sooner or later, your luck will run out, and you’ll end up rotting in prison. Forever.”