When I’ve got my fiancé back. When he’s in my arms and home. Then they could lock me up and torture me for all I cared. At least Q would be safe.

The detective laughed—obnoxiously loud. “You think you can just pop in whenever you feel like it? Who the hell do you think you are? Some uppity tourist thinking they can flaunt the rules. I’m sick of your kind coming to my country and not respecting our laws. You’re coming with us. And there is nothing you can say to prevent that.” He nodded at the man beside me.

I cried out as he shoved me forward.

Franco swore as he suffered the same treatment.

Corralling us through the door, we were pushed down a long white corridor reeking of bleach and medicine. Bright lights pained my eyes as my brain worked overtime.

Think! I had to get out of this.

A wash of hot anger stole my panic, leaving me clearheaded and completely in control.

Q gave me his company. I was his intended. He’d given me nine billion pieces of power.

Money was power.

Use it.

Straightening my back, I planted my feet onto the linoleum and swung around.

The detective jerked to a halt. His badge was at eyelevel and I latched onto his name. Sergio Ponzio.

“Listen here, Mr. Ponzio. We’re not criminals. We don’t have time to explain but you’re making a big mistake.”

Sergio’s black eyes flashed with a mixture of annoyance and mirth. “Really? And why is that? To me it looks as if I’m doing my job.” Rubbing his chin, he tapped his foot dramatically. “Please…by all means. Enlighten me.”

“Tess…don’t,” Franco hissed.

I wasn’t going to mention Q. I didn’t want pompous asshats getting in the way of whatever plan Q had in motion to find him. But I wouldn’t put up with being manhandled and kept from doing my part in saving him.

Standing as tall as I could in my scruffy ballet flats, I snapped, “You’re to let us go this instant. This man is my personal protection, and we have urgent business to attend to back in France. You do not want to delay me.”

I wished I oozed wealth like Q. I wished I knew how to wield something so ostentatious but powerful. I was a fraud in jeans and a jumper but conviction radiated in my eyes.

Sergio’s face darkened. “Was that a threat, miss?”

Oh, shit.

I cried out as an officer grabbed my arms, twisting it behind my back. Handcuffs snapped around my wrists, bruising the bone beneath.

“Wait!”

No. Please no.

Franco yelled, “Get your hands off her. She’s the owner of Moineau f**king Holdings. Do your homework and you’ll find out she’s about to marry Frances’ most powerful CEO.” Franco cursed as a cop grabbed his unslinged arm, handcuffing him to his belt.

Then the corridor erupted with rapid chiming.

A cell-phone.

Everyone froze. Franco lowered his head, his body rolling in on itself. “Fuck.” His eyes latched onto mine.

My instincts soared out of control. Whoever was calling had something to do with Q.

I went crazy. Twisting, turning, trying to get free. I had to answer that phone. “Please. Let us answer it!”

Sergio planted a hand on my sternum, slamming me against the wall. The cuts on my shoulder blade from Q screamed. “Behave. Otherwise we’ll be carrying you out of here in a straitjacket.”

Chiming escalated to techno bells and squeals. The phone’s ring sliced my brain; I thought I’d pass out if it wasn’t answered.

Franco snapped, “You have to let me get that. You’re messing with things you don’t understand.”

I froze, never taking my eyes from him. My heart hammered in hope. Franco would get us free.

Sergio laughed. “And what don’t I understand? Feel free to inform me because I’m dying to know.”

The phone ceased its awful chime.

My heart died with it. Q—something had happened, and we hadn’t picked up the phone. Had we ruined his chance of survival? Had these bastards taken away our one shot at finding him alive?

“Franco,” I whimpered. “What are we going to do?”

Sergio crossed his arms, watching us carefully.

Franco spoke only to me. “I didn’t answer, so the next stage of the operation is in effect. They’ll assume I’m dead and go straight to Blair as team leader.”

My face drained of all feeling. Would this unknown Blair come through for us? Would he be as ruthless and focused as Franco? God, I hoped so.

Franco softened. “Don’t worry. They’ll find him.”

“Find who?” Sergio jumped in.

Franco lost his peace, looking like a monster confined to a cage. A monster who would gladly kill to get free. “The man you’re stopping us from saving, you f**king ass**le. If he dies while you’re acting out some egotistical power trip, you’re going to be very f**king sorry.”

Sergio’s face glowed with righteous happiness. “Threat number two. You’re now classified as high risk prisoners, and I have full right to detain you until I feel you aren’t a risk to my fellow officers.”

Grabbing my elbow, he forced me forward. “Let’s go. A cell has your name on it.”

I had nothing left to lose. Nothing left to hide because if they locked me up, I knew in my bones I would never see Q again. I would die alone. I would cease to exist the moment I felt Q’s life snip from my own. “Please! It wasn’t a threat. It’s the truth.” I swallowed tears. “They took him. Quincy Mercer. Five men came and took him. You have to believe us!”

Sergio didn’t say another word as he stomped us through the hospital, past gawking patients and wide-eyed nurses.

With a punch to the large swinging doors of the exit, Sergio dragged me from bright hospital to dark evening.

A patrol car waited at the curb.

I struggled. “No! You don’t have any reason to arrest us. No reason at all!”

Sergio nodded for one of his men to open the car door. “No reason? Care to explain why pedestrians reported a topless woman pressed against the glass.” His eyes flew between Franco and me.

Franco raised his eyebrow in my direction. “Damn f**king Mercer. He always has to go one step too far.” He caught my eye, a half-smile on his lips. “Always cleaning up his mess.”

My tummy clenched, remembering Q inside me. The burn of him cutting my shoulder. I’d give anything to be curled up in bed with him talking, watching a movie.