I spend the rest of the evening functioning on autopilot. Esguerra and I have another late-night call with Asia, so I tie Yulia up in my office, letting her read while I take care of business. She’s unusually wary around me, watching me like I might attack her at any moment, and her fear adds to the rage bubbling deep within my chest. It takes everything I have to hand her a book and walk out of the room without grabbing her and demanding answers.
Without resorting to violence that I can’t and won’t use on her.
As I listen to our Malaysian suppliers argue over the quality of the latest batch of plastic explosives, I try to keep my thoughts from straying to my captive, but it’s impossible. Now that the idea is lodged in my mind, I can’t push it away.
A lover. A man Yulia cares about and
