“You always said I was the best hire you ever made.” His voice carries none of its usual warmth. “Truth is, I was never yours to hire.”
The scotch burns in my stomach as the realization hits. Every security protocol, every confidential meeting, every whispered strategy—all of it compromised from the start.
“Ano saw your potential before anyone else,” Marcus continues, moving to stand beside Montoni’s desk. “He just made sure to have a safety net. Young, ambitious fixers like you? He knew you’d either become an asset or a threat.”
“Nine years. Every operation, every client—”
“Eight years ago, when you fell for Eve?” Marcus cuts me off, his smile sharp. “That wasn’t the beginning of my mission. That was just when it got interesting.”
Montoni chuckles, pouring himself another drink. “You were his best investment, Remy. Until you became his biggest threat.”
“The night Liv came to me.” My mind races through every detail Marcus had access to. “You knew exactly where she’d run.”
“Of course.” Marcus adjusts his grip on the gun, professional as always. “Who do you think made sure your security cameras caught every intimate moment? Every whispered confession? Every strategy session about taking down Ano’s empire?”
The depth of the deception threatens to choke me.
“You were a job.” Marcus shrugs. “A well-paying, long-term job. Nothing more.”
The scotch glass slips from my numbing fingers, crystal shattering against hardwood. My vision blurs, but I force myself to focus on Marcus’s face, memorizing every detail of his betrayal.
“The sedative’s quite elegant,” Marcus explains, professional as always. “Developed specifically to maintain mental clarity while compromising motor function. You’ll feel everything, process everything, but your body won’t respond.”
My tongue feels heavy, words slurring slightly. “Every security protocol—”
“Carefully documented and relayed to Mr. Montoni.” Marcus moves closer, his familiar stance now twisted with dark amusement. “Your obsession with control made it so easy. Every camera placement, every panic room design, every escape route… all compromised from the start.”
The room tilts sideways. I grip the chair arms, fighting to stay upright as Marcus continues.
“Your growing attachment to Eve?” He chuckles. “That was an unexpected bonus. Watching you spiral, breaking your own rules… quite the entertainment.”
“The bathroom cameras.” My stomach lurches with understanding. “The bedroom feed—”
“All carefully monitored.” Montoni’s voice carries a sick pleasure. “Your tender moments, your passionate encounters… such raw footage. The way you held her in that bath, thinking you were finally safe. Beautiful, really.”
My muscles refuse to respond, but my mind remains brutally sharp. Every word cuts deeper than the last, painting a picture of calculated manipulation spanning nearly a decade.
Bile rises in my throat, but my body won’t even let me vomit. I’m trapped, forced to listen as they dissect every moment I thought was private, every vulnerability I showed only behind closed doors.
The drug seeps through my system like liquid lead, each heartbeat pushing the paralysis deeper. My fingers won’t respond, but my mind stays razor-sharp—a special kind of torture. Montoni’s study swims in and out of focus, but I force myself to concentrate. They didn’t know. They couldn’t know.
“Your arrogance was always your weakness,” Marcus says, pocketing his phone. “Thinking you could protect her. Come out on top.”
I try to speak, but my tongue feels thick and useless. The thought of Liv waiting at the safehouse steadies me. The new codes, changed just hours ago without Marcus’s knowledge, are my only victory in this mess.
Montoni circles his desk, coming to stand over me. “I must admit, your devotion to my daughter is… touching. Misguided, but touching.”
“Go to hell.” The words come out slurred, but my hatred cuts through clearly enough.
Marcus’s phone rings. He steps away, speaking in harsh whispers that my drugged mind can’t quite grasp. The frustration in his tone builds until he’s shouting.
“What do you mean you can’t get in?” His composure cracks. “Override the system!”
A weak laugh escapes my throat. Even as the room spins, satisfaction burns hot in my chest. They can’t reach her.
“The codes, Remy.” Marcus stalks back, fury twisting his features. “When did you change them?”
“Fuck you.” The words taste like copper in my mouth.
