Page 113 of Locked and Loaded

She didn't move.

He took another.

She slashed.

The blade caught the back of his hand. It wasn't a deep cut, but it was enough. Enough to split the skin. Enough to make him jerk backward with a sharp intake of breath. A thin line of blood ran across his knuckles before dripping onto the polished stone floor.

For the first time since she'd met him, the calm mask slipped. Only slightly. But enough.

Lennox raised the knife again.

"I told you. The only way out is through me." She held his gaze. "Now tell me where my sister is."

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Dragan rounded the corner at a run and stopped so abruptly his shoes skidded across the polished stone. For the briefest moment his brain refused to process what he was seeing.

Lennox stood in the middle of the corridor, her evening gown streaked with dust, one hand wrapped around the handle of a chef's knife. The blade rested against Konstantinos Georgiou's throat. A thin ribbon of blood trickled from the older man's hand where she'd already cut him.

Behind him, the emergency door shuddered violently as his bodyguards hurled themselves against the reinforced glass. One had drawn his pistol and was using the butt to hammer at the lock.

"Lennox."

She didn't look at him. Not even for a second. Her entire world seemed to have narrowed onto the man standing in front of her.

Georgiou, however, did. His eyes flicked toward Dragan. A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"So," he said quietly. "Callahan Security arrives to save the day."

Dragan drew his pistol in one smooth movement and leveled it at the older man's chest. “My employer is none of your business.” His voice was calm. Almost conversational. "I care about one thing."

Georgiou waited.

"Tell her what happened to Chloe."

Silence stretched between them.

The fire alarm screamed overhead. Outside the glass, another heavy blow rattled the door.

Georgiou sighed. "I don't know any Chloe."

The knife pressed harder against his throat. A bead of crimson welled beneath the blade.

"I wouldn't lie again," Lennox said quietly.

"I'm not,” Georgiou insisted.

"Liar."

He shrugged. "I meet hundreds of girls."

"You buy them."

“Po-tay-to, po-tah-to.”

Dragan felt something cold settle in his stomach. The complete absence of remorse. To Georgiou, there was no difference. They weren't people. Trinkets to amuse.

"Lennox."