Lizzy walked into the hospital two steps behind Sebastian. Sebastian exuded power and control as he walked in his form-fitting black suit and dark gray tie—a dark gray tie that matched his eyes perfectly. Humphrey was waiting at the door to the hospital room for them. He greeted them in his typical bumbling way, but Lizzy knew he was more than the snoring, drooling, blundering man he projected himself to be. Just as she knew the man they’d passed in the parking garage wasn’t some assistant delivering letters, but Jason taking Sandra away.

“Tate and I are heading out to pilfer the ice cream while the nurses are off the floor. Do you want anything?” Humphrey asked as he pulled Tate’s wheelchair out of the room.

“No, thank you,” Lizzy said, smiling at them both as Sebastian just shook his head. His eyes were locked on Birch’s as he took in the wires, the IV, and the bruises. Lizzy closed the door. Humphrey would be right outside as a last resort if she needed help.

“Shit, Birch,” Sebastian whispered with more emotion than Lizzy had ever heard from him. Sebastian stood rooted to the floor as Lizzy took a seat at Birch’s bedside. She sat unobtrusively between them, preventing Sebastian from touching Birch unless he allowed it.

“Yeah, it’s hard to fight someone trying to kill you when you don’t know who it is. In war, we know who they are. With this, they are all around and you would never know.” Birch kept his eyes locked with Sebastian’s as well.

“What can I do?”

“You can cut the bullshit, Seb.”

Sebastian didn’t react. It was an art, really. Only the tiniest flare of Sebastian’s nostrils showed he was affected by Birch’s words.

“How so?”

“Stop being Sebastian Abel, tech genius, business mogul, billionaire. Be the man I grew up with. Be my friend.”

“I’m always your friend, Birch.”

“See, I don’t know if you are. You’re so caught up in this God complex, thinking you should be running the world, that I’m not quite so sure you are my friend anymore.”

Sebastian blinked. Birch’s words hit harder than Lizzy thought they would.

“How can you say that? I’m funding this whole secret mission you have going on and don’t know a thing about it. I hand over my planes, my connections, my money . . . all because you’re my best friend. Shit, you’re my only friend.”

Birch sat up and stared at his friend. “Then why are you using my agents to spy against your rival, Bertie Geofferies? And why are your name and your money showing up in the records of the largest drug dealer in the world, a drug dealer who just so happens to be funding Mollia Domini? Now, I can forgive the fact that Roland Westwood is your private banker. After all, he’s known for making his clients a lot of money. However, he’s also known for being ruthless and power-hungry, just like you have become. And he also is a member of Mollia Domini, the same group that tried to blow up your supposed best friend. And you had to know that. I know you better than anyone, and you never go into anything blind.”

Lizzy sat in silence as both powerful men were motionless. They looked at each other as if trying to read into the other’s every move and motive. Sebastian’s lips thinned as he pressed them together so hard that they turned white.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Birch asked quietly as he let out a long sigh. “Seb, just be honest with me.”

It was as if all the air was let out of Sebastian. “Yes, I knew. Or at least I suspected. I knew about Manuel. That was why I was trying to get that other woman to let me go with her to Mexico. I guessed that was where she was going when she hopped on my plane with me and compared me to him. I’m guessing she’s dead now.”

“No, she’s not,” Lizzy said with her jaw clenched. She stood up and poked Sebastian in the chest. “You should have told me!”

“I assumed you knew where she was going and why.”

“But you shouldn’t assume that I knew,” Birch said, stopping Lizzy from poking Sebastian again. “Tell me what you know.”

“Well, know and know are two different things. Manuel is the go-to man for business in Mexico. All those manufacturing plants, resorts, anything . . . they all make payments to Manuel. But last time I was down there checking in on my resort, Roland was there. It was two months ago now. He couldn’t stop bragging about how big he was and that he was in a new investment. I gathered it had to do with Manuel. Then when you told me about Mollia Domini, I figured that’s what he was talking about.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Birch asked with disbelief.

“I had no evidence. It was just a feeling.”

“What else do you know or think you might know?” Lizzy asked as she clenched her fist. They could have been miles ahead in this operation if she’d known about Roland.

“That’s about it. I know I’ve been approached by numerous people about a particular secret investment, but those people have mysteriously disappeared recently.”

“Is Roland the head of the investment group he talked about?” Birch asked.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry—”

Birch shook his head, cutting Sebastian off. “Don’t say something you don’t mean. I don’t even know who you are anymore, Sebastian. You would sit back and let me be killed instead of coming to me? How do I know you’re telling me the truth now? How do I know you’re not the head of Mollia Domini, and you’re just stringing me along so you can know what’s going on?”

“I am not a part of that. I would never hurt you, Birch.”

“How can I know that? Look at your actions. You’re playing both sides, waiting to see who the winner is so you can take advantage, aren’t you? Well, Sebastian, your time is up. Choose right now. Whose side are you on?”

Lizzy moved to the edge of her seat, ready to stop Sebastian if he decided to either run or attack. By the way Sebastian’s jaw was moving as he ground his teeth, Birch had hit the nail on the head. Sebastian was playing both sides.

“What can I do to prove to you that I’m on your side?”

“Well, since you’re so good at laundering money, you’re going to transfer $20,000,000 and one jet into an account we’ll set up. That way we’ll be completely autonomous from you from now on,” Birch told him, knowing it was just a drop in the bucket for Sebastian.

“Done.”

“And I want you to get me two invites for Kerra Ruby’s birthday party in Los Angeles,” Lizzy told him.

“Done.”

“Any strings?” Lizzy asked, knowing every time she’d asked for a favor there had been strings attached.

“No.”

Birch looked at his childhood friend and shook his head. “It’s not easy, you know. This hurt more than the fact someone tried to kill me. Who have you turned into, Sebastian?”

“Someone who will never be beat up again,” Sebastian said softly. Lizzy saw the pained look in Birch’s eyes.

“We’ve come a long way from the two boys who would get into trouble on the base. We had a rough start, but would you change it? I wouldn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t. We were innocent then.” Sebastian looked at the floor and took a breath. “I’ll have everything done in a couple of hours.”

Lizzy stood to leave with Sebastian, but he held out his hand. “Not now, Miss James.”

Sebastian walked out of the room and down the hall, never looking back.

“Shit, Lizzy. What have I done? He’s my best friend, but you saw it, didn’t you?”

Lizzy’s heart broke for Birch. And even for Sebastian. Friendships should never be taken for granted. Sometimes they were as dear to you as family—even more so since you chose your friends. But even family and friends sometimes lose their way and no one sees it until it’s too late.

“Yes. He’s still withholding information.”

Humphrey wheeled Tate back into the room. “How did it go?”

Birch just shook his head. He was lost in the past and the future while trying to figure out where his best friend fit into all of that. “Lizzy, you better go. They’re opening the wing back up soon. We get to go home tomorrow, or I guess the day after tomorrow technically since it won’t be until the middle of the night. We’re hoping I’ll have a chance to get home without the press knowing to give me time to settle in.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Lizzy asked.

“No. Gene Rankin, the butler, is taking care of my arrival at the White House.”

“Lizzy,” Tate said, drawing her attention from Birch. “Be careful tonight.”

“Thanks.” Lizzy looked at her group and walked out the door. She only hoped she’d make it back to them.

---

Alex slugged back another energy drink. He hadn’t slept in . . . well, long enough that he needed at least two more drinks to make it through the work he had to get done. His eyes were dry and bloodshot and his fingers were cramped, but he couldn’t stop now. He had turned the IRS and DEA onto Davenport Bank. He’d sent all the information they’d need to make their case. But he’s also sent it to the heads of every intelligence agency and multiple DEA offices all over the US to make sure no one would drop the ball.

Then he’d hacked Manuel’s bank and locked them out. They couldn’t wire any money in or out without a password, a password they’d never get. If Manuel was good, and he was, he’d have his own hacker on it, but it would take time. That would allow the IRS and DEA time to move in and shut down his US contacts. The money for Mollia Domini was drying up.

The chat screen on the private secure group with his hacker friends popped up.

Dark Surfer: Roland Westwood has his hand in everything and everyone. And I mean that both figuratively and literally. His clients read as the top 100 richest people in the world. Or, I should say, his grandmother’s bank. Roland has been investigated numerous times for insider trading, but walks away each time. It seems with each cleared investigation he gets more and more whales as clients. It’s hard to tell who is legit and who isn’t. Personally, Roland has been linked to actresses, models, and most recently to heiress Blythe Sterling, the granddaughter of George Stanworth. They are going to be at some birthday party for Kerra Ruby tonight.

Rock Star: I found plenty linking Roland to Manuel. The trouble is, like Dark Surfer, I have found too many ties with powerful people to know what to make of it. I’m slowly hacking into as many accounts as I can. I can’t get into Sebastian Abel’s or Bertie Geofferies’s accounts yet. They must hire even better hackers than us at their tech companies. I already lost one computer to a virus SA Tech’s firewall installed as I was trying to hack them. I did get into Trip Kameron’s accounts and social media. It’s clear Trip and Manuel are close. But what was interesting was the money that Vivian Geofferies was paying to Trip who was then sending part of it to Manuel. What I also found out from Vivian and Trip’s private messages to each other—Manuel will be in LA tonight for that same birthday party. He’ll be on US soil.

Alex read the message three times, thinking his eyes were deceiving him. Valeria, Lizzy, Grant, and Dalton were already en route to that very party. Dalton and Grant weren’t invited, they were going to be keeping an eye on the perimeter, but Valeria and Lizzy had invitations. Manuel would recognize Valeria instantly.

Alex dove for his phone. In his sleep-deprived, artificially hyped state, he hit the phone and sent it crashing to the floor behind his table. Falling to the floor, Alex crawled on shaky arms and legs under the table to the phone. He sat down hard and slowly reached for the phone. He took a deep breath and called Lizzy.

“Dude.”