I groan and roll over, my cheek pressing against something cold and hard beneath me. I open my eyes and flinch against the bright fluorescent light overhead. A pounding beat has taken up residence behind my eyes, reverberating through my skull.

"Ah, your awake," a voice says.

I roll my head to the side and see a pair of shiny shoes planted firmly on the tile floor. The wooden chair beneath him creaks as he shifts his weight back.

"It's been a long time since I watched you sleep, dulzura."

My senses sharpen all at once, the fogginess in my head dissipating under a spike of adrenaline. Only one person has ever called me that. Impossible. Rolling onto my front, I manage to push up onto my hands and knees until I'm kneeling in front of his chair. I'm almost scared to look at his face. My heart beats erratically as my eyes trace over the length of his charcoal grey suit, a blood-red tie knotted perfectly against the crisp white collar of his shirt. With a deep breath, I lift my gaze higher and come face to face with the man I know so well. A chiseled jaw covered in a layer of salt and pepper stubble, the scar that runs down his left cheek, and turquoise eyes surrounded by stress lines. His inky black hair harbors more grey than it used to, but it only makes him look more distinguished.

"Papi?" I breathe, staring at him like the apparition he is.

"Hello, Camilla."

I don't know what to say, what to do. Icy cold shock chases through my veins, freezing me in place.

"You're dead," I whisper. Tears sting my eyes and I fight them back. Whatever trick this is, I'm not falling for it.

His lips quirk as he spreads his arms wide. "I'm very much alive."

Pushing to my feet, I stagger forward and he stands, catching me. I fall into his arms, inhaling the familiar scent of cloves and brandy, and some little fractured piece of me stitches itself back together. Without permission, tears spill down my cheeks. "I missed you," I breathe.

He strokes a hand over my hair. "And I missed you. So much." Pushing me back, he kisses my forehead, an indulgent smile on his face.

As the shock slowly ebbs away, the pain trickles in. "Why didn't you come back?"

He waves a hand through the air. "Necessity I'm afraid. I was in the midst of a war I couldn't win. I needed to disappear."

I close my eyes. I can still picture that night. The blood, the fire as they burnt everything I had ever known to the ground. And my father... we always assumed he was dead, because if he were alive then he would have come for me and Gabriel— wouldn't he? "Mama and Emilio died," I whisper. "And you just...left? You didn't avenge them? You didn't try to find me and Gabriel?"

He tilts his head, his lips pulling up on one side the way they do when he's about to make a ruthless business decision. "Oh no, dulzura. I have spent years waiting to take down the men responsible. Ronan Cole got to Cortez first—"

"I killed him."

He smiles and cups my cheek. "Of course you did. I'm so proud of you, Camilla."

For a second, I'm just a little girl again, basking in my father’s praise, but nostalgia soon gives way to anger. "So, Mama and Emilio died, Gabriel and I ended up on the streets, and you never thought to come for us?" There were so many times when I would have given anything for my father to rescue us. Those first few years were so hard, and I had Gabe to look after... "We barely survived," I say quietly.

"You were safer without me." He shakes his head. "But you not only survived, you thrived. You've both become so strong. I could not have hoped for better." He stands and moves closer to me, stroking the back of his fingers down my cheek. "I've watched you. You've made me proud. You even infiltrated Ronan Cole."

"Infiltrated," I whisper to myself, frowning.

"To think, all the years I have spent trying to ruin him, and my very own daughter brought me the information so easily." He smiles.

Like a bucket of ice-cold water, the realization of what is happening here jolts me to my core. "You're The Horseman," I choke.

He huffs a laugh. "Not a name I developed myself."

"You tried to have me killed," I say, pain lancing through my chest. My own father.

He drops his chin to his chest. "I thought you were compromised. It hurt me to order it, but you know that business must always come first." Oh, I know it well. "I could not allow him to have you. If you were to side with him..."

My father is alive, and he tried to have me killed. I sent him the information on Ronan's missiles and clients, and now...now he's taken me. "Why am I here?"

"Ah, my sweet daughter. You are here because it's time."

"Time?"

"To kill Ronan Cole." He wants to kill Ronan. That's it? It feels so...anticlimactic.

"Why do you want him dead so much?"

"His father aided Cortez. The Cole's were responsible for the death of your mother and brother. They destroyed everything I built. And the young one is much worse than his father. More cunning, more ruthless."

"But you then became The Horseman. You gained more power. You always said, business before all else. I can't believe Mama meant enough for you to go on a ten-year revenge pact."

His jaw clenches. "I loved your mother."

"The same way you loved me and Gabriel?" I ask, my voice far more vulnerable than I'd like.

He swipes my hair from my face. "Ah, dulzura, I loved you enough to make you strong. It pained me to allow you to suffer, but look where you are now. You broke the Russian." He grins. "Made him fall in love with you against all odds. Made him want to marry you..." He lifts a brow and I swallow nervously. "He came for you when the Los Zetas took you. Even after he tried to kill you and you him. He’s weak for you.”

“How do you know about that?" I didn’t tell anyone he poisoned me. No one but Ronan and I know that.

“Who do you think saved you? I’m always watching, Camilla. I have eyes and ears everywhere. When I heard you slit his throat, I thought you’d done what no one before you could; kill Ronan Cole.” He tuts, shaking his head. “Such a shame you failed. But he still rushed to your aid when you were in peril.” He knew. Why does that bother me? It certainly wouldn't be the first time that my father knew I was kidnapped and did nothing. It's his way. We don't negotiate. I learned at an early age that if I didn't save myself I'd die. No one was coming for me...until Ronan. He always comes for me. "The Russian is so very weak for you," my father says.

Ronan has never been weak in his life. I walk to the window and stare out. Large trees dot the grounds with several wooden buildings sprinkled between. Armed men pace about the perimeter of the barbed wire fence. "Why now after all these years?"

"Because you are his kryptonite. I couldn't have predicted this outcome of course, but you will be the bait that lures the Russian to me."

"So, what? You think you'll just call Ronan and tell him you have me, and he'll walk into your trap like some White Knight?" I snort. "You give him too much credit."

"Do I? Or do you underestimate your hold over him, sweet child? He is not a man accustomed to losing, and to lose you is to lose altogether." He's wrong. If Ronan is stupid enough to come here I might just kill him myself.

"If you just wanted to kill him, why play all these games? Why ask for the USB? Why build the missiles and take his clients?" I turn to face him, throwing my arms out wide. "Do you want him dead or do you just want his power?"

A twisted smile pulls at his lips. "I simply want to destroy him before I kill him. Men like Ronan Cole do not fear death, but they fear losing that which is precious to them: money, power, missiles...his little kitty." He grins and my stomach knots tightly. How does he know these things?

"You have it all figured out," I whisper, and for the first time, fear for Ronan settles over me.

My father steps forward and clutches my face in both his hands before kissing my cheek. For a second, I'm five years old again and my father is my hero, the center of my world. "We will be unstoppable. Our family will be everything it once was and more." He strokes his thumbs over my cheekbones. I close my eyes, swallowing around the lump in my throat. "Remember who your family is, where your loyalties lie. And remember that Ronan Cole is the enemy."

I know he's right. I've become weak. Taking a deep breath, I nod my head. "Yes, Papi."

"Soon, you will call him and beg him to save you," he smiles. "And he will come running, right into our hands.”