Ste was caught off guard.


    She''d assumed Rachel would beg her for help, or at least ask Keen to intervene. But to her surprise, Rachel showed a hint of backbone.


    After watching Rachel for a few seconds, Ste eventually walked over and cut the ropes binding her. If anything went wrongter, at least they''d have another pair of hands.


    Rachel rubbed her sore wrists and murmured, "Thank you."


    Ste didn''t reply. Instead, she turned her attention back to Keen.


    "When we leave, stay close to me," she said quietly.


    Keen nodded vigorously. With his mother by his side, he didn''t feel quite as afraid.


    About ten minutester, the sound of a door unlocking echoed from the hallway. A burly, rough-looking man stepped inside. "Ms. Cameron, the boss wants to see you."


    "All right."


    Ste was about to leave when she felt a sudden tug on her sleeve. She turned and saw Keen gripping her arm tightly, his delicate face full of anxiety.


    "Mom, don''t go," he pleaded. "Those bad people might hurt you."


    Just like they hurt Rachel, he wanted to say.


    Ste gently stroked his hair. "I''ll be fine. Trust me."


    Sheforted Keen for a moment, then turned to Rachel. "Ms. Pearce, could you keep an eye on Keen for me?"


    Rachel nodded earnestly. "Even if it costs me my life, I''ll keep him safe."


    Ste showed little reaction to her dramatic promise. Rachel had always loved ying the good Samaritan in front of Keen. Ste was used to it by now.


    She wasn''t particrly worried


    about Rachel doing anything to Keen. If anything happened to him-whether Rachel was at fault or not-there''d never be anything between her and Haynes again. Rachel understood this well, if she wanted Haynes on her side, she needed to win over Keen first. To her credit, she''d worked hard at it and had made some progress.


    Ste followed the man out. He led her down the hall to a room at the very end.


    When he opened the door, a man in his mid-thirties sat inside, polishing abat knife. As Ste entered, he looked up and shed a crooked smile. "Ms. Cameron, right on time."


    A jagged scar shed across his face, twisting his features into something both menacing and cruel.


    Ste addressed him calmly. "And you are...?"


    He introduced himself. "Call me Lind Moore."


    She nodded. "Mr. Moore, the money''s been delivered. Can we go now?"


    Lindughed softly. "What''s the rush, Ms. Cameron? Haynes hasn''t shown up yet.


    If I let you all go and something happens to you on the way out, who do you think he''ll me? I''d be the one left holding the bag."


    Ste''s eyes narrowed slightly. She understood now-these people had no intention of letting them walk


    free. Not that she was surprised


    Anyone bold enough to kidnap Haynes''s son and friends clearly had more on their mind than just money.


    Thinking fast, Ste decided to keep him talking. "Mr. Moore, may I ask... do you


    have a personal grudge against Haynes?"


    "Of course I do." Lind ran his fingers


    along the scar on his cheek. "Years ago, the O''Brien Group forced my family''spany into bankruptcy trying to buy us out. We were left drowning in debt. My mothe jumped off a building. My father went to prison. My little sister-she tried to pay off our debts, ended up selling herself to some sick bastard, and he tortured her to death."


    He looked up, his eyes cold and hard. “So, tell me. Do you think I have a reason


    to hate him?"