At the multimillionaire’s wife’s funeral, a homeless girl pointed at the casket and screamed, “She’s not dead! I saw him lock her in!” The husband sneered, “Get this lunatic out of here.” But when the lock broke and the lid slid open, what lay inside made the entire crowd freeze in terror…

register my presence. The briefcase flew from his grip, bursting open and scattering stacks of bearer bonds and forged passports across the wet ground.

I pinned him down, my forearm pressing brutally against his windpipe. “Where is she?” I screamed, my vision narrowing into a tunnel of pure wrath. “Where is my wife?!”

Rurik thrashed, sobbing hysterically.continue reading …