Ice spreads through my veins. The paper in my hand suddenly feels like it’s burning my skin.
“He threatened my family.” Heath’s voice breaks. “My wife. My kids. Showed me pictures of them at school, at the park. Said he’d make them disappear if I didn’t help him.”
“Help him what?” The words scrape past my throat.
“He wanted me to meet you here. Give you false information.” Heath’s shoulders cave inward. “Someone was supposed to follow you back to your hideout, destroy everything you’ve collected, and then—” He chokes on the words.
“Kill me.” I finish for him, my voice flat.
Tears glisten in Heath’s eyes. “But I couldn’t do it. Not after everything I’ve seen. The trafficking, the lives he’s destroyed…” He gestures at the paper in my hand. “Those codes are real. Everything you need to expose him is on that server.”
The silence stretches between us, heavy with the weight of his confession. My father’s influence reaches everywhere, corrupting everything it touches. Even this moment of apparent redemption reeks of his manipulation.
“They’ll come after both of us now,” Heath whispers, his voice hollow. “He’ll know I betrayed him.”
I study his face, searching for any hint of deception. But all I see is raw fear and exhaustion—the look of a man who’s carried secrets for too long.
“How long do we have?” I ask, already calculating escape routes.
“Minutes, maybe.” Heath glances nervously at the shadows. “His men are probably already—”
The crunch of gravel cuts through Heath’s words like a knife. My body reacts before my mind can process—muscles tensing, breath hitching, fingers curling around the knife in my pocket.
“They’re here.” Heath’s whisper carries raw panic. He stumbles backward, nearly tripping over his own feet. “Oh God, they’re here.”
Shadows dance across the grimy windows as figures move outside. The weak light from our single bulb turns the dirty glass into a grotesque puppet show of approaching threats.
“How many exits did you say this place had?” I keep my voice low and steady despite the thundering of my heart.
“Three.” Heath’s words tumble out. “Loading dock in back, side door by the offices, and—”
The main door groans open, cutting him off. Dark figures pour in, their tactical gear absorbing what little light exists. The metallic gleam of weapons catches my eye—professional hardware, not street thugs with pistols.
“Seven.” I count under my breath, tracking their positions. “No, eight.”
They move with military precision, spreading out to cover all angles. These aren’t my father’s usual muscle. These are the cleaners—the ones who made Roberto disappear.
A ninth figure emerges from their midst, moving with calculated grace. My throat tightens, expecting my father’s familiar silhouette. But as the figure steps into our pool of dim light, my blood turns to ice.
The sight of Remy hits me like a physical blow. His presence fills the warehouse with an oppressive weight, crushing the air from my lungs. The man before me is a stranger wearing a familiar face—gone is any trace of the passionate lover from nights before. In his place stands something carved from ice and shadow.
“Did you really think I’d choose you over twenty million dollars?” His voice carries none of its usual warmth. Each word drops like a shard of glass between us. “You’re not that special, Eve.”
My fingers curl into fists, rage burning through the initial shock. “And here I thought you actually had principles. What happened to all that talk about justice? About choosing which monsters to protect?”
“Business is business.” He steps closer, moonlight catching the metallic gleam of the gun at his side. “Your father made me a better offer.”
My heart pounds against my ribs as I stare at the man I’d foolishly let into my bed and, to be honest, into my heart. “Twenty million.” The words taste like poison. “That’s what it costs to buy your loyalty?”
“Come now, Eve.” Remy’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Did you think our little encounters meant something? That I actually cared?”
“No.” I force steel into my voice. “I knew exactly what you were. A snake wearing an expensive suit.”
He circles closer, each step deliberate. “Yet you still spread your legs for me.”
“Better than spreading them for my father’s money.” The words hit their mark—his jaw tightens fractionally.
“Such fire.” He stops mere feet away. “I’ll miss that about you. The way you fight even when you’re cornered.”
