I meet his gaze despite my position, refusing to show weakness. “The handcuff is a bit tight. But I suppose that’s the point.”
He moves into the room with predatory grace, each step measured and deliberate. I force myself to hold his stare even as my pulse races. Does he know about the USB drive? About Roberto? My true connection with Ano Montoni? The questions tangle in my throat.
The mattress dips as he sits on the edge, close enough that I catch his familiar scent—expensive cologne mingled with something darker. Gunpowder, maybe. The ghost of our last kiss haunts my lips, and I hate how my body responds to his proximity.
“You disabled my cameras and ditched your protection.” It’s not a question.
“You planted a tracker.” I match his tone. “I guess we’re both disappointed in each other.”
His jaw tightens. “You could have died in that freezer.”
“Would that have simplified things for you? No need to dirty your expensive suit as you’re about to do now.”
“Is that what you think?” He leans closer, and I fight the urge to shrink back. “That I saved you just to collect Ano’s bounty?”
“Twenty million buys a lot of loyalty.”
His laugh is sharp, humorless. “If I wanted you dead, Eve, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Heat radiates from his body, making it hard to think. The handcuff bites into my wrist as I shift, reminding me of my vulnerability. “Then why am I here, Remy? Why the restraints?”
“Because you ran.” His fingers brush my jawline, and I hate how I lean into his touch. “And I can’t trust you not to do it again. Start talking, Eve. What game are you playing?”
Roberto’s face flashes through my mind—his last desperate look before shoving me into that freezer. The weight of notknowing his fate crushes against my chest as I weigh my options. How much can I risk telling? How much does Remy already know?
Something dangerous flashes in his eyes as he leans closer, bracing one hand beside my head. The mattress dips under his weight, and I fight the urge to pull away. “Even after pulling you from that freezer, you still think I’m your enemy.”
There’s a genuine offense in his tone that catches me off guard. It doesn’t fit with the calculated killer I’ve been telling myself he must be. But trusting him could be fatal—for more than just me.
Our faces are merely inches apart now. “You’d want to deliver me personally, don’t you?” I counter, keeping my voice steady despite our proximity. “Maintain that perfect reputation of yours.”
His grip tightens on the headboard, knuckles whitening. The reaction is visceral, almost personal. It doesn’t match the cool professional I remember—or thought I knew.
“You reached out to me, Eve.” His words carry an edge of betrayal that surprises us both. “What was it about? Were you willing to trust me or testing how close you could get to find juicy information?”
His free hand traces my jawline, the gentle touch contradicting the tension crackling between us. It would be so easy to lean into that touch, to pretend for just a moment that this isn’t what it is—a dangerous game where one wrong move could cost everything.
Remy’s words cut through the tension. “The handcuffs stay until I get answers.” His voice drops lower as he moves away from the bed. I track his movements—the controlled steps that can’t quite mask his agitation.
“I know you’re investigating Ano Montoni’s company, human trafficking.” He continues pacing, each step precise. “And before you accuse me of spying on you, Montoni told me of his fear ofyour revelations. And no, I won’t testify about that. You know I won’t.”
“Of course not,” I spit back, disgust coating my words. “You’re too busy protecting monsters like him. Do you know how many lives have been destroyed? How many women and children—”
“What I know,” he cuts me off, voice sharp as a blade, “is that you’re going to get yourself killed. You think exposing this will change anything? They’ll bury the evidence along with your body.”
I pull against the handcuff, metal biting into my skin. “So I should just look the other way? Like you do? All I need is the originals. Once I release the evidence—”
“You’ll be dead before it hits the press.” He stalks back to the bed. His presence is overwhelming as he looms over me. “Montoni’s reach goes deeper than you know. The people he works with—”
“I don’t care how deep it goes,” I interrupt, my voice shaking with rage. “I’ll dedicate every breath I have left to make sure he rots in prison. Everything he’s built, every corrupt deal, every life he’s destroyed—I’ll bring it all crashing down.”
His eyes search my face, frustration morphing into something more calculating. “Why this case? Why Montoni? There are dozens of trafficking rings you could investigate. What makes him special?”
“Special?” A bitter laugh escapes me as I yank at my restraints. “You want to know what makes him special? The way he sits in his mahogany-lined office, sipping thousand-dollar scotch while signing off on shipping manifests filled with human cargo? Or maybe how he hosts charity galas with blood money?”
“This is personal for you,” he observes quietly, dangerously. “Beyond your usual crusades. What aren’t you telling me?”
“You’re the great fixer,” I sneer. “You tell me. You work for him. Haven’t you figured it out? Haven’t you wondered why he’s so obsessed with stopping me specifically?”
