Lucas kept pressing. He just wouldn't give up on getting the password.
What if?
What if Debbie lost too much blood, her brain stopped working, and she just blurted out her bank PIN in a daze?
If that happened, he wouldn't have to lift another finger. He could just tell Bella, transfer the funds, split the cash, and vanish. They could toss Debbie aside like garbage and wash their hands of the whole mess.
But clearly, Debbie wasn't letting go of her life or her money that easily.
Lucas had barely mentioned the password, not even finishing his sentence, before she snapped back.
"Look," Lucas backpedaled, "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying, once you're out and we meet up, you'll have the password, we'll have the account, and we can split the cash right away."
Debbie shot him a mocking glare. She didn't buy a single word of his bullshit.
"Lucas, Lucas. I used to be rolling in it, you know? You're far from the first toy boy I've kept around. I know exactly how guys like you operate. We're practically cut from the same cloth. So don't try to play me, got it? I'm not falling for it. Just do your job, get me out of here, and once the money's divided, we go our separate ways. Instead of trying to mind-game me, you should be figuring out how to spring me from this damn casino."
"You're too impatient," Lucas argued. "Who said we aren't getting you out? Bella and I have everything set up perfectly. Relax, tonight's the night. I probably can't walk you out the front door myself, but Bella hired some heavy hitters. The second you step outside and get into the transport car, we'll hit them on the road and pull you out."
"I'm stuck in here," Debbie retorted. "I have no options. If you want the cash, you get me out."


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