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a moment ago. He wanted to know if he should protect Santiago from her. The fact that he was there told her that Santiago was worried about her.

Looking at all of those precious faces on the monitor felt like a boot stomping on her heart, her lungs, her stomach. There were little boys’ and girls’ faces, all lined up like playing cards, all of them with the same look—a forced smile.

This was indeed a human auction.

Her mind went into a frenzied state, a terrified frenzy where she knew that if she saw any of her daughters there, her mind would tear itself into pieces. How many times must it fracture before enough was enough? How many blows could she take to her emotions before she could no longer function? If they were trying to break her, it was working.

“I don’t see your daughters here,” Santiago said like he was disappointed, “but when I do we will see what this little expedition has netted us.”

Her mouth moved, not to speak, but to quiver in horror, almost like she was beyond words, beyond regular functioning. Her instincts flared with animal rage, but they were quickly tempered by that same, crushing sense of helplessness. She was sitting next to what she feared might be the head of a human trafficking cartel with a gun pressed to her head, a gun held there by a man who hated women enough to want to kill them for his own sick pleasure. She never once felt like a victim in her life, but now…was she a victim now? Hell yes. Was she powerless? She was, in every sense of the word. Was there anything she could do? Slowly, dutifully, her body told her no, which was why she didn’t go after Santiago Cardenas this time.

Her eyes stung with salty liquid, little pinpricks of sorrow that would soon become a flood of tears. They got really glossy, swam for a moment, and then they spilled over as she looked at each of the children for sale. These kids had mothers and fathers, and many of them surely had brothers and sisters who missed them, who would wonder what happened to them after they disappeared. These were people she was looking at, human beings, alive. They weren’t cattle, pigs, or horses meant for an auction block.

The tears cascaded warm and heavy down her cheeks as she studied the expressions on their faces. When the tears reached the end of her chin, they fell into her lap, soaking through the fabric into her skin. She heard herself start to speak, but she was not in control of her words. It was like they came on their own and she could do nothing to stop them. “You don’t buy and sell kids unless you’re a disgusting freak.”

Santiago slowly turned and locked eyes with her. “I am a disgusting freak, Sydney Fox. I would have thought Jose made that clear by now.”

“You’re making it perfectly clear right now,” she said with a heart full of hatred.

On the screen, there was an intermission in the list of human products for sale. “This is the end of this particular block,” Santiago said. “The next auction will start in fifteen minutes. In that block, I am quite sure that we will see Zoey and Maisie.”

A small, pained noise escaped her as her world began to collapse.

“Before that, I feel like it’s time to speak to your husband.” He picked up his cell phone and handed it to her. “Dial his number then give me the phone.”

She begrudgingly did as he asked. When she heard Camden answer, Santiago said, “Mr. Fox, I have your wife and daughters.”

She leaned toward the phone, hoping to hear what her husband was saying. Camden asked what he needed to do to get them back.

“You will need to transfer ten million dollars into my account. It is a dummy account, a corporate cutout, so there is no need to try to find out who I am. I only want you to know that I have what is most precious to you, and I am willing to let each of these precious creatures die a horrible death if you don’t give me what I want.”

“But I don’t have that kind of money,” Camden said.

“You have two days, Mr. Fox. Sydney, say goodbye to your husband,” Santiago replied, turning the phone toward her.

“Camden—” she started to say, and then Santiago hung up.

The second he cut the line, Sydney suffered a violent, explosive reaction. She drew her left arm in, tightened her hand into a fist then glanced sideways just enough to line up an elbow-shot right to his chin. She did all of it in less than two seconds. But then something hard slammed into the back of her head and everything went black once more.

When she opened her eyes, all she saw was the blur of carpet. It took her a moment to realize where she was and why she was face-down on the floor. The pain came roaring back immediately. Moving to try to get up, her head still swimming, she groaned and fell back again. A minute or two later, she pushed herself into a seated position and looked around in a daze.

“She has a head like concrete,” Jose told Santiago.

With the end of his gun, he tapped her on the skull. The pain sent shockwaves through her, causing her to wobble and reach out for something to hold on to. It happened to be Santiago’s leg that she had grabbed. He didn’t shake her hand off of him or complain.

“Why did you hit me?” she asked, sounding drunk.

“Because you are arrogant and you do not learn,” Jose said in response. “You think you

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