“I’m coming for you.”

Logan’s promise had been on repeat in my head since Lance ended the call, and pocketed my phone. Gone was the gentleman who let me hide behind my grief, a cruel and calculated demon in his place. After kidnapping me with his chloroform cocktail, the effects lasting less than twenty minutes but left me with a killer headache. He tossed me in the back of his delivery van, ignored speed limits and the fact I was unrestrained, rolling around in the back.

Lance made several phone calls, speaking in a language I assumed was Arabic. Whoever he spoke to last made him angry as he slammed his hand on the steering wheel several times. I remained quiet, something Ross had taught me if I ever found myself in a situation such as this one. When he finally stopped, and the back door opened, the smell of the ocean and something rancid hit me full force.

“Enjoy the ride, Harper?”

I wouldn’t feed into his madness. Instead, I remained quiet and still, celebrating internally as the smile on his face faded and disappeared into a flat line. Frustrated with my lack of participation in his game, Lance grasps my ankles, pulling me from the van and shoving me toward a metal container waiting to be loaded on a ship.

“Hurry up, Harper. I have much to show you.”

Shoving me through the open door of the metal container, the hinge creaking, and then shutting with a thud behind us. I expect the interior to be dirty and stacked with boxes. Instead, there was electricity, or at least a generator, as several television screens lined one of the walls. It was cool inside, not hot like a metal box should be in the afternoon sun.

“Welcome to my office, temporarily at least.”

He walked over to one of the rolling chairs, sitting down in a huff motioning for me to sit beside him. I hesitate, considering for a minute bolting for the door. The idea of escape fades as I see the gun he has tucked in the waistband of his jeans. Switching gears, I take a seat and attempt to formulate a new plan.

“I bet you're wondering why I brought you here? Gone to all this trouble to get you alone?”

Twisting his chair back and forth, his dark eyes fell on me, his relaxed stance worrying me.

“I suppose you’ve earned the right to know who I am, considering how close you came to marrying me. Who knows, perhaps I can convince you to wear my ring again.” The sting of a tear prickled behind my eyes, and I take a deep breath to contain them. When I woke up from the chloroform, I found I had lost my necklace in the struggle.

“My name is not Lance Ranoka, it’s Ecnal Konar. My family owns thousands of acres of land in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Pakistan where we harvest poppy plants to make heroine. We sell our drugs to the world or trade for things we need, such as guns or young women to entertain us.”

The night I found him snorting coke while two girls sucked his dick made perfect sense.

“I came to the States originally to help my older brother, Aaron. But that changed when the US military started targeting our poppy fields, destroying the way we live and trying to enforce a new way of life for my people. I’ve spent the last two years collecting information and making new alliances.” Something told me I didn’t want to hear him go into any detail regarding the kind of alliances he spoke of.

“What does kidnapping me have to do with all of this?”

“That’s all you get, beautiful Harper. I have something to show you and an appointment to keep.” Lance or Ecnal, whomever he is, turned from me to the monitors on the wall. Picking up what I assumed was a remote, he pressed several buttons until all the screens came to life. The first screen showed what looked to be the outside of a security gate, the metal fence at the bottom and a pole with a keypad to the side. The second screen looked to be the inside of a room, although the walls resembled the ones in this metal container. Two men sat in the center of the room facing each other, a small table separating them. Looking closer at the top of the table, I noticed two cell phones and something much smaller, the pendant Logan had given me last night.

“Your little boyfriend and his team has created too many problems for us lately. Cheating us out of a lucrative deal with a Russian business partner.”

I remember the news report announcing the death of Pavel Kumarin, a Russian mobster, who died in an explosion. I also recall the name, Aarash Konar being reported as dead as well. This had to be one of Ecnal’s brothers.

“His actions took away a lot of money, and I plan to collect payment, from all of them.”

Pointing at the second screen, “I noticed you recognized the locket on the table. Did you know he planted a tracking device behind the fake diamond chips?” This didn’t surprise me, Logan was a trained SEAL, and he had confessed he loved me. As far as the term fake, I highly doubt it. It was just another jab in an attempt to get a reaction from me.

“Want to know why those men are sitting on the floor waiting?” Keeping my focus on the two men, I avoid answering his question. “Look at the walls, Harper. What do you see?”

Straining my eyes, trying to see what he was trying to point out, but the picture is too dark to make out what was against the wall. Leaning over and resting his chin on my shoulder, he whispers in a chilling voice.

“It's enough explosives to blow up a city block. I arranged for some information to be leaked earlier today. And by my calculations, your boyfriend and his gang of misfits should be congregating outside my storage unit right about now. You and I are going to watch as they storm the unit, looking to rescue you, and blow themselves up instead.”