“Isn’t it?” I gesture at our surroundings. “A hidden apartment, registered under someone else’s name. No phones, no contact with the outside world. What would you call it?”
Remy braces his hands on the counter, leaning into my space. “Protection.”
The coffee steams between us, forgotten, as morning light spills across the kitchen’s pristine surfaces. We’re locked in this moment, this breathless space between truth and lies, neither willing to look away first.
I set my coffee mug down with a thud. “Where is Terrell Heath? Is he still alive?”
Remy meets my stare, his expression carved from stone. “He’s alive. I had him moved to a secure location.”
Relief floods through me before anger swallows it whole. “Why? Why all the theatrics, Remy? Why the staged drama?”
He pushes away from the counter, folding his arms across his chest. Something flickers in his eyes—doubt, maybe. The hesitation looks foreign to him, like a crack in perfect marble.
“Because when you disappeared from that night, I had no idea where you were. None.” His jaw tightens. “Do you understand what that did to me?”
“Your order to bury my investigation wasn’t an option for me, and you know it.” I grip the mug harder, letting the heat burn my palms. “That’s why I fled.”
He exhales sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. “Montoni was closing in, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he found you and made sure you were dead. I had to act fast.”
“So your solution was to take the contract on my head?” My voice rises, edged with disbelief.
“Yes.” His gaze doesn’t waver. “It was the only way to control the situation. To protect you.”
“Protect me?” I laugh, the sound brittle. “By making me think you’d betrayed me? By shooting me?”
“With a blank.” He takes a step closer, and I fight the urge to retreat. “Every move was calculated to keep you alive.”
“Keep me alive, or keep me under your thumb?”
His eyes darken. “Is there a difference when it comes to your father?”
The mention of Ano makes my stomach turn. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what, Eve? Don’t remind you that he’s hunting you? That he’ll tear apart this city to find you?” Remy closes the distance between us. “Or don’t remind you that I’m the only thing standing between you and a bullet?”
“I never asked for your protection.”
“No.” His fingers brush my cheek, and I hate how I lean into the touch. “But you’re getting it.”
Remy takes a step closer. His voice drops, carrying a weight that makes my skin prickle. “I accepted the contract and staged your death. Everything Montoni wanted—streamed live over a private channel for his benefit. The blood, the sedative, all of it meticulously planned to make sure he believed you were gone.”
My throat tightens. “You’re saying—”
“Heath was already compromised. Your father found him first and threatened him. When you contacted him…” Remy’s jaw clenches. “If I hadn’t intervened, if I hadn’t taken control of that hit, you would have died last night. For real.”
My hands tremble as I grip the counter’s edge, knuckles white against the marble. The room spins slightly as I process his words. My breath comes faster, shorter. “You made it look real? You let him think he won?”
“Don’t.” His voice carries an edge of steel. “Don’t act like I had a choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
Remy slams his palm against the counter, the sharp sound making me flinch. “No, Eve. Not with this. Not with your father.” His tone turns sharper, defensive. “It had to look real. If there was even a hint of doubt, he’d have come after you harder. He’dhave sent every cleaner he had to finish the job. This way, he thinks you’re no longer a threat.”
“So what?” I push back from the counter, anger rising to match his. “I’m supposed to thank you for this elaborate deception? For making me think you’d betrayed me?”
“Would you have trusted me if I’d told you the plan?”
The question hits like a punch in the sternum. We both know the answer.
