Timmy drove me to Menlo Park, to an office located near Clive’s company, Warren Technologies. Li Na had instructed me to check in at the front desk, then head directly to my temporary office. She said that although the rest of the office was operating on a skeleton crew, someone would be waiting for me.

“Ms. Taylor,” Timmy said as we headed down the freeway, “it’s extremely important that we set some ground rules.”

I licked my lips nervously. “Okay.”

“First of all, we can’t let them separate us. We have to tell them that going in. If they try to, I will shoot them.” His tone was all business.

“I told Li Na that I was bringing a guard, and that you had to stay with me. I told her that was part of the deal. But one of her conditions was that I couldn’t involve the police or the FBI, so we’re flying solo.”

Timmy nodded, his eyes never leaving the road. “She’ll probably have me disarmed. If that happens, and if there’s an emergency, things are going to get messy. Just be prepared.”

I looked out the window. “I understand.”

“The second thing is, when I tell you it’s time to go, we have to go.”

I turned back to him. “I have to finish what I start here.”

He grunted his assent. “I understand, but I have a pretty decent grasp on when things are about to get out of control, and I need you to listen to me. If I tell you we have to leave, you need to wrap things up.”

That was one of Gabe’s conditions—I had to listen to Timmy.

I nodded. “Okay.”

A small smile broke out over Timmy’s face. “Besides, Mr. Betts told me that he’d have my balls if I don’t get you out of here safely. I promised him that I would. And I don’t break my promises.”

That was the first time Timmy had smiled at me while using a colloquial term such as “balls.” It annoyed me that it was because he and Gabe had been talking. I furrowed my brow.

Timmy coughed. “Sorry, Ms. Taylor. I was just quoting him, but that was still inappropriate.”

I frowned at my guard. “You know you still work for me and not for Mr. Betts, don’t you?”

Timmy gave me a sideways glance. “He wants to keep you safe. It’s my job to keep you safe. Sometimes, you give me instructions that don’t keep you safe. But yes, I know I work for you.”

“Well, as long as that’s settled.” I went back to staring out the window and tried not to think of Gabe. I missed him so much. I tried not to think about Clive either as we pulled into Menlo Park. I shivered, remembering the last conversation we’d had.

Then, less than a week later, he’d been murdered.

We pulled into the parking lot of the office park. It was mostly empty. I tried to take steadying breaths as we headed into the lobby. After we went through the revolving door, our steps echoed in the marble entryway. The enormous, opulent building was eerily quiet. A lone security guard was waiting at the counter. I hustled to him and gave him my name.

“Right this way,” he said. “They’re expecting you.”

They. I held my breath as he brought us up on the elevator. We followed him out onto the fifth floor and to an office at the end of the hall.

“Someone will be right with you,” the guard said, leaving us inside.

It was a bland executive office suite that appeared unused and immaculate.

A man came through the door, and I stared at him, taken aback. He was Caucasian, extremely good-looking, and dressed in a black suit. He had even, bleached white teeth and too much gel in his hair.

My confusion must have shown on my face.

He looked at me with raised eyebrows. “What? Surprised I’m a white guy?”

I nodded numbly while Timmy glared at him.

“It’s time to think more globally, Ms. Taylor,” the man said in a nasty, arrogant tone. He opened up the laptop on the desk and pulled up a document. “You have instructions.”

I looked at him sharply. “From who?”

“From your new boss,” he said. “I’d be agreeable if I were you. She was on a tear earlier.” He looked at Timmy. “I need your weapons. All of them. And every piece of electronic equipment you’re both carrying.”

Timmy grunted, but he handed the man two guns and the knife he was carrying, along with his cell phone. Then he looked at me miserably as I turned my phone in.

The guard patted us both down. Finally satisfied, he took everything, stuffing our phones—our last connection with the outside world—casually into his pockets. “This office is your domain. Do not leave it for any reason. There’s a bathroom on the other side of the bookcase. I will bring you food and anything else you require. That couch is pretty comfortable,” the guard said, motioning to a large sofa near the window. “Not that you’ll be sleeping much.”

I gritted my teeth, turning back to the screen. I refused to let Li Na or her henchmen get the best of me. I was there for a reason: to do a job and get out. Alive.

That was Gabe’s last condition—I had to promise to come back to him.

We were weaponless, but I had other things I could use against her.

I pulled up the instructions and prepared to get to work.

* * *

Three days passed as I performed the tasks Li Na had set out for me. I had no Internet connection. I knew nothing about what was happening at Paragon, and I hadn’t received any direct contact from Li Na.

Timmy occasionally slept on the couch in the office, but mostly he paced and stared out the windows, watching for signs of trouble. The guard with the bleached teeth came back at three-hour intervals with food, water, and coffee, saying very little.

I kept working, taking only intermittent catnaps, eating just enough to stay focused.

Li Na’s instructions were precise. She’d given me her most up-to-date version of the patch and asked me to lay out the steps she was missing. I worked diligently, from memory, as I attempted to recreate my technology step-by-step. She wanted a blueprint she could use as a template, and she wanted it clean. An original, so I would have difficulty prosecuting her for corporate espionage and theft of my trade secrets.

Of course, if I lived, my testimony would be proof enough for that.

Apparently she was banking on that if. She was fighting dirty, but she was looking for a clean slate.

Lucky for me, Jiàn Innovations was even further behind than I’d initially thought. Their lack of progress was the only thing buying me time. I didn’t dare cross Li Na by providing misinformation or factoring in mistakes. One false move could land a knife in me, just like Clive.

On the morning of the third day, the guard with the bleached teeth came in with breakfast and coffee. “She wants to speak with you,” he said. “She wants to know what’s taking so long.”

I glared at him as he took over the laptop, connected me to the network and pulled up Skype. “What’s taking so long is that she wants me to recreate my very complicated technology from scratch. It took me six years to develop. I’ve been here for three days.”

He gave me a quick once-over. “You should probably watch your tone,” he warned. “She doesn’t have a lot of patience.”

The computer beeped, and I studied the screen, bristling with nerves, as the image came to life. It was Li Na Zhao herself, resplendent in a dark suit. Her long, dark hair hung in panes around her carefully made-up face, and she wore her signature bright lipstick. She was what you would call a handsome woman, too mean to be called something pleasant, such as pretty or beautiful.

“Lauren?” she asked, peering at the screen, inspecting me. Her English was perfect, with only the slightest accent. “You look older than twenty-five. Maybe it’s a good thing that you’re taking a break from the office.”

I glared at her. “I’d hardly call this a break. Last I checked, this is still an office.”

She raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re pretty dry, huh? I’ve heard that about you. Once an engineer, always an engineer.”

I shook my head. “I’m not an engineer.”

“But you talk like one.” She sat back on her desk and looked at me thoughtfully. “Pretty, though. Too bad you’re married to your work. Sorry it didn’t work out with that CEO—Betts. He was handsome.”

I grimaced at the mention of Gabe’s name. That was the last thing I wanted to hear from Li Na’s lips. “Last I heard, you were divorced. So I’m not sure why you think you have room to talk,” I said sharply, before I could stop myself.

She laughed a little. “I was married back when I was boring. Back when I thought there was only one way to do things.” She paused for a beat and folded her hands together. “Thankfully, things have changed. All sorts of things.”

I assumed that she meant there was now more than one way to get ahead in the global biomedical marketplace. For instance, stealing the technology of a stronger company. But in a rare instance of self-control, I kept my mouth shut. Clive said he’d never figured out what made Li Na tick. I’d vowed that I was going to.

I’d also promised Gabe and Hannah that I would stay alive.

“Seems like all your suitors are disappearing. Clive Warren was interested in you, you know. In a personal way,” Li Na said.

I struggled to keep my cool. “We had a professional relationship when he was on my board. After Clive got caught up with you, he seemed to lose his good judgment. I have no idea what his interests were after that. But I do know that his death was senseless. Unnecessary.”

I watched her for signs of distress, but she only nodded, looking thoughtful. “I’m not sure that Clive Warren ever really had good judgment. When I met him, all he wanted to do was brag. Brag about his company, his money, his influential connections. That’s what got him into trouble in the first place. But I’m not surprised that you’re being kind about him. Americans are like that—overly sentimental.”

I just blinked at the screen. “I don’t think calling his murder senseless and unnecessary is being overly sentimental.”

Li Na shrugged dismissively. “This is getting boring faster than I anticipated. Let’s move on. You’re here because you have a job to do for me, and you are not completing it quickly enough.”

I took a deep breath. “I agreed to help you, but we have a deal, remember? You agreed that if I do this, you’ll leave me alone for good. Leave Paragon alone, as well as all my associates. I’m under no obligation to you, Li Na. If I think you’re going to double-cross me, I’m walking out of here.”

She shook her head and chuckled with more casual animation than I’d imagined her capable of. “You think I’m going to let you just walk out? If you don’t want to do what I ask, I suggest you consider Clive Warren’s fate. And then get back to work.”

Timmy grimaced next to me.

“You’re going to stab me?” I asked. We hadn’t brought any equipment to tape Li Na or gather evidence against her. She’d told me ahead of time that we would be searched, and everything we brought in would be confiscated. I wasn’t asking her about Clive’s death because I wanted to build a case against her. I asked her because I wanted to hear her say it.

“Only if I have to,” she said, shrugging. “I’m a CEO, Lauren. Just like you. I appreciate your singular brilliance. I don’t like to waste assets.” She smoothed her jacket and looked at me.

“I am not your asset.” I leaned toward the screen, my anger mounting. “And I don’t understand. If you’re so brilliant, why can’t you figure the patch’s technology out for yourself? Why do you need me to do it for you?”

She cocked her head and frowned at me. “Not everyone has your particular gifts, Lauren. Don’t underestimate yourself.”

I shook my head at her. “I don’t underestimate myself. Maybe my weakness is that I overestimate the humanity and decency of others. Because really—what gives you the right to take what’s not yours?”

She shrugged again. “No one has given me the right. But I’m not waiting for permission.”

I bit my lip. She was not going to be talked out of her present course of action. Clive had warned me about her from beyond the grave, and I had a duty to listen to him. I didn’t have a lot of choice about what I could do. As her captive, I was a one-trick pony. I needed to use that one trick to my advantage, to protect the people I loved and the technology I’d worked so hard for.

There was no reasoning with her. She had no remorse. I’d known before that she would do anything to get what she wanted, but talking to her had clearly driven that message home.

“I should be able to finish this in the next few days.”

“You need to be faster,” she said. “I know how close Paragon is to launching. I’m going to launch first, Lauren. I have everything ready to go—my government’s blessing, the distribution channels, everything. That’s why you’re here. You’re the only one who’s been able to figure this technology out. While you’re here, your company will languish without you. I know who you are. You work alone. Your singular brilliance is also your weakness, as far as I can see.”

I swallowed hard, watching her face. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that no one else can do what you do. That’s why Clive failed, and that’s why I’ve failed so far. That’s why your board of directors has continued to support you, even when you’ve been shrouded in secrecy and exercised pitiful judgment. No one can launch the patch but you. That’s why you’re here, and that’s why I know I’ll beat you to market.”

I swallowed hard, keeping the litany of curses I had in store for her down as if they were bile.

“It must have been hard for you to decide to walk away from your greatest ambition. It will be an irrevocable loss for you. But you’re doing the right thing, Lauren. Protecting the people you love. The technology will be there when you get back. But mine will be to market first. It’s a small price to pay for peace of mind, I’m sure.” She smiled at me without warmth. “I’ll leave you to it, then. But be quick. What little patience I have was used up by Clive Warren’s impotence. I’ve got a patch to launch.”

I just stared at the screen as she logged off. I do too, bitch.

But I kept that thought to myself and dutifully got back to work.

Two more days passed without incident. I noticed that both I and my clothes smelled, quite badly, but there was little I could do about it. I kept moving forward with the steps, silently praying that things were on target at Paragon.

And then, on the morning of the fifth day, the door to the office slammed open.

“What the fuck is this?” the guard roared. I jumped, knocking over my water. I still didn’t know his name, but I’d mentally started referring to him as Ken. He had striking similarities to Barbie’s counterpart with his bleached teeth and strategically mussed hair.

“What the fuck is what?” I yelled back, trying to clean up the water before it soaked my papers. I was right in the middle of a complicated theorem, and if my work got blurred, I’d have to start all over.

I looked briefly up at the guard. Ken’s face looked almost as white as his teeth, and he was breathing hard. He held up a tablet that showed a news site. Then he pulled out a gun and aimed it at my face. “It’s all over the news. Paragon just launched its patch.”

I smiled at him, abandoning my clean-up mission and letting the water seep into the papers. “You don’t say.”

That was when Timmy jumped him. He wrapped his powerful arms around the guard’s neck and immediately twisted it, hard.

I winced, covering my face as Timmy killed him. But I already knew I would hear the sound of Ken’s neck being broken, again and again, in my nightmares.

I watched through my fingers as Timmy laid the body down and held out his hand for me. “Ms. Taylor. Let’s go. Now.”

I saw the guard’s body on the ground, his head at an awkward angle in death. “Oh God,” I said. The world went fuzzy around me. I kneeled down and was noisily sick on the carpet.

“It’s okay, Ms. Taylor. Just close your eyes. I’m going to guide you, but we’ll have to stop at least a couple of times. There’s more of them.” He grabbed the gun from the dead guard’s hand, and I scrunched my eyes shut. I didn’t object when Timmy pulled me against his chest and hustled me down the staircase.

We could hear the footsteps of the other guards in the stairwell. Otherwise, it was eerily quiet as we made our way down the stairs. Timmy crushed me against him, as the guards made their way up.

And then they were close enough that Timmy took his first shot. There was no screaming. There was no begging. There were just the bullets as they ricocheted through the concrete stairwell. Timmy protected me, pushing me behind his big body as he took his mark. I shuddered as he fired, again and again, and I held my breath as I listened to the other men fall.

Relief flooded me as I realized Timmy was still standing, but my heart was still pounding in my chest. I thought about Ken on the floor upstairs, the dead guards that we stepped over, whose bodies I looked at in spite of myself. And I thought about Clive, dead and bleeding on his cell floor.

Timmy hustled me down another set of stairs.

“Wait, stop,” I begged. I kneeled down and got sick again. The sounds of my retching echoed in the stairwell. I was the loud one, the weak one. And I’d also been the one to cause all this trouble.

No. It was her. It was her, and I was going to make her pay.

Timmy carefully picked me up. “Ms. Taylor, we have to go. I need to get you home.”

But then there were more shots, and screams coming from down below. “Put your weapons down! And your hands up! FBI!”

Timmy put his big body in front of me again, shielding me as several sets of footsteps pounded up the stairs.

“I said, put your weapons down!” the agent shouted, aiming at Timmy.

I peeked over Timmy’s shoulder and recognized the man who’d sprinted up the stairs and now stood before us, gun blazing.

“Agent Marks,” I screamed, “stop!”

He shook his head as he recognized me, and lowered his weapon as several of his counterparts lined up behind him. “Ms. Taylor,” he said, breathing hard, “you are turning out to be more of a pain in the ass than I originally imagined.”