No One Heard Her Scream

grimaced with obvious disdain as he looked around, repulsed by the world Brogan thrived in. The interruption diffused Brogan's fury, and he scrambled off the floor, zipping his pants up.

In an uncontrollable show of relief, Becca let her body go slack. She collapsed against her restraints, drained and exhausted. Maybe the nightmare would be over.

Yet when reality struck, Becca knew this couldn't be true. Diego stood next to Cavanaugh as a free man. But two men hemmed him in, only waiting for Cavanaugh to give the order to restrain him. He would suffer their same fate, and her heart sank with a deep and pervasive regret. Earlier, Brogan told her Cavanaugh knew about Diego's visits to her and assumed he was talking to the local cops. And her interference with the blackmail attempt on Diego had gotten him noticed by the wrong man. The rich bastard and his obscene disciple had won.

Before she knew it, the words were out of her mouth. 'I'm so sorry, Diego. I didn't mean for this to happen.'

At the sound of her voice, Diego jerked his head to the right. His beautiful Rebecca. Duct tape bound her to a railing. And her eyes pleaded for him to help, tears shimmering down her face.

'What . . . what's going on here?' he questioned. 'Why is she—?'

He looked for an answer in Cavanaugh's face, but the man only smirked, a sickening reminder of his twisted nature. Finally recognizing the scene for what it was, Diego shifted his eyes from Rebecca to the young girl near Brogan. When he saw the face of the blonde, he knew it had to be Danielle. He recognized her from Draper's files.

Oh my God, this can't be! Danielle is alive!

His mind grappled with the shock, but another realization hit with a powerful jolt. Brogan had set this up. Rebecca and Danielle. And Cavanaugh had known about it. His big surprise. Brogan's phone calls. The whole fucking dinner had been orchestrated for this vile finale. While they ate, Rebecca had been subjected to a living hell . . . with Danielle only feet away. It all came in a rush. His heart hammered, and his throat wedged tight and choked off his air.

Brogan's torture of these two women spiraled him into a seething rage. Diego shook with it. He felt an angry fist clutch at his heart, threatening to rip it from his chest. Something snapped inside him.

'You pathetic coward!' he yelled.

Diego raced for Brogan. He grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. And with all his weight behind it, he pounded his fist into the man's gut, over and over. Even with Brogan being the heavier man, Diego lifted him off the ground with every punch. Adrenaline fueled his frenzy.

Voices in the dark shouted garbled words he couldn't understand. The mass of bodies closed in, the circle of light growing smaller. Suffocating and oppressive.

'Aarrgghh . . . aahhh.' Brogan grunted and moaned. 'Get him . . . off!'

No amount of punishment would ever be enough. For Rebecca. For Danielle. For every one of the missing girls. Their faces raced through his brain at a fevered pace. Diego couldn't stop. He battered the man, out of control. The injustice. The years stolen from him because these men bartered with human life as if it meant nothing. Blind rage had taken over. And a dark side of Diego's soul emerged, a side Cavanaugh had fostered.

'That's enough.' Cavanaugh bellowed. 'Pull him off.'

Diego shoved Brogan against a wall. When his fist connected with the bastard's face, hands tugged at his arms. A man shoved into his rib cage with a dropped shoulder to back him off. Two men grappled him into submission, but Diego fixed his eyes on Brogan . . . nothing else.

'It took . . . you long . . . enough.' Brogan glared at Cavanaugh, panting.

'Quite frankly, I had hoped you would rebound, Mr. Brogan.' The man knew how to twist the knife. No one's ego was sacred. 'And the viciousness of Diego's attack, I found it... astounding.'

Diego glared at Cavanaugh, his body shaking, still in the throes of his brutality.

Brogan hunched over and spat blood on the floor, heaving with hands on his knees. The aftermath of his beating still echoed through the chamber. But the angry voices had trailed off, waiting for what would come. When Brogan rose, his face swollen and battered, he scowled at Diego with a new scale of hatred.

'I'm gonna—' He spat again and wiped his mouth with a sleeve—'take pleasure ... in killing you . . . real slow, Mex.'

'Big talk . . . for such a small insignificant man.' Diego wrestled against the men who held him. His rage smoldered, a sustained burn unappeased.

Cavanaugh intervened. The stark light overhead cast shadows across the features of his aristocratic face, giving him a deathlike pallor. A macabre master of ceremonies.

'As you know, Diego, I do not tolerate disloyalty. Clearly, you are working with the police. You know Detective Montgomery quite well.' Cavanaugh gestured with a wave of his hand, pointing to Rebecca. 'I can only assume your fascination with her would not be in the best interest of Mr. Rivera or myself. So consider what comes next your severance package. Mr. Brogan, he is yours as I promised.'

Brogan stood and flexed his shoulders. He torqued his head to one side and popped his neck. Slowly, he walked toward Diego. The men grasping his arms reinforced their grip. Diego steeled himself for the beating, his stomach taut.

'You won't get away with this,' he argued, glancing over at Cavanaugh. 'Joe Rivera won't stand for it.'

'Now there, you are wrong. As Mr. Rivera's new business partner, I am only protecting his interests along with my own.' Cavanaugh beamed. 'You see—'

Brogan interrupted the man's gloat by taking his first punch. He rammed his fist into Diego's gut, doubling him over. But the men yanked him back up.

'Uurrgh.' Diego grimaced and taunted his abuser through gritted teeth, 'Is that all you've got?'

Brogan fumed, his eyes dark and menacing. He stepped to one side and pounded Diego's rib cage, each blow aimed to break bones.

'No, please ... let him go,' Rebecca screamed. He heard her sweet voice through the haze.

Cavanaugh continued, as if he were at a cocktail party speaking about the weather. 'Well, yes, I'm afraid that's going to leave a mark.'

Oblivious and smiling, Cavanaugh walked around Brogan as he pummeled Diego with beefy fists, over and over.

'As I was saying, I've planted some very incriminating evidence on a computer at the estate ... and in your quarters. When your employer finds out about it, he will be grateful to me for heading off a disaster.'

'Rivera won't ...' Diego forced the words from his mouth. '. . . he won't believe you.'

Brogan planted a fist to his jaw, jolting his head back. He saw stars, tasted blood. A warm stream dripped down his chin.

'Of course he will, my dear boy. I've thought of everything.' Cavanaugh caught Brogan's eye. Without a word, he stopped the man's assault with a glare. For the time being, Diego had his reprieve. He slumped in the grasp of the two men, his legs wobbly from the vicious beating.

Cavanaugh carried on. 'You see, this despicable trafficking business will appear to be all your idea. And you've done splendidly so far, financially speaking. A rather lucrative account has been set up under your name in Switzerland. The Swiss Credit Bank in Zurich. All confidential, of course, but the paper trail will lead back to you. And with the rush on setting it up, the police might assume you intended to leave the country in a hurry. Imagine that.'

'But the police...' Diego shook his head to clear the fog. His throat parched. 'Rebecca...'

'The police will figure you've been feeding them bad information only to protect yourself. Can you imagine their embarrassment? And, of course, this brave detective over here will try to stop you, getting killed in the process. But not before killing you first. A nice tidy package for the police to uncover. Case open, case closed.'

Diego pushed himself to stand. He raised his chin, mustering a defiance he had to fake. 'Very clever. Local cops . . . might buy that. But Rivera?'

Cavanaugh grinned and shook his head. 'Mr. Rivera will want to make it up to me, for strapping our new enterprise with such a miscreant. Game, set, match, Mr. Galvan. Rather clever, don't you think?'

'It would be . . . except for ... a couple of minor points.' Diego gulped air into his burning lungs. He licked the blood off his swollen lip.

Cavanaugh furrowed his brow in question. 'Such as?'

Brogan shrugged with a snort. And from the corner of his eye, Diego saw Rebecca stand at attention. During