A corner of his lips hitches up in something that might be a smile if it weren’t so cold. Like he’s getting a kick out of how tense I am. “Drop the act,Katherine. I know who you are. I’ve known who you are for a while now.” His voice goes low, almost a growl. “A dirty FBI agent who snuck into my home under false pretenses.”
I blink breathlessly, my brain misfiring for a beat, everything inside me jerking to a stop.
He knows my real name.
He knows my real name.
I told you Mia doesn’t suit you, didn’t I?
My body goes rigid, blood rushing in my ears until it’s all I can hear. The air suddenly feels too hot, too tight, sawing in and out of my lungs.
How much does he know?
Howlonghas he known?
How long is a while?
Since he started calling me Katina?
I remember the glint of something knowing in his eyes back then, that first day when he insisted on calling me Katina despite my protests.I should’ve known. Should’ve paid attention to my instincts. I force a glance up at him, trying to read him, but his face is carefully blank.
He raises a hand towards me, and I flinch instinctively, almost falling on my ass, but he quickly grabs my arm and yanks me back against his chest. “Who sent you?” he asks, voice calm now, but still sharp as a blade underneath.
I search his gaze as I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“Liar,” he growls, his grip tightening on my arm until it almost bites. His eyes burn into me, and for a moment, I can actually read him a little. Anger. Betrayal. And something else buried deeper, something that might even be hurt. But just as quickly as they appear, the emotions vanish behind his walls again.
“I swear I don’t know,” I insist, swallowing thickly as I try to push away from him. His fingers only clamp down harder, and then—like touching me suddenly offends him—his lips curl and he lets go all at once.
The release sends a jolt of restless energy through me. My fingers fist in my hair before I even register moving, pacingtaking over because standing still feels impossible. Tugging the short strands gives me just enough sting to stay present while my mind whirls chaotically. What do I say? How much should I tell him? Do I hold back until he makes good on his threat and tosses me back into thefrigorifer? The thought alone makes me shudder.
When I finally look up, I find him watching me, those green eyes fixed on me with a hard glint that hits right in the center of my chest. A stupid idea sparks anyway—what if I can turn him to my side? He’s caught me; trying to deny it isn't going to help me. But maybe honesty will.
It feels like I’m holding my raw, vulnerable heart in my hands and offering it to him on a platter as I start speaking.
“They never told me who they were. A couple of weeks ago, I was in the hospital when a woman disguised as a nurse came into my room and tried to drug me. I neutralized her and snuck out, but I should have known more threats were waiting for me outside.”
I risk another glance at Roan. He hasn’t moved an inch—just tracking me with his eyes while I pace a trench into the floor. I swallow and keep going.
“I was grabbed and overpowered by a few men right outside the hospital. A sack went over my head so fast I didn’t even have time to run or fight back. After that… I had no idea where they were taking me. All I know is we drove for what felt like hours but could have been minutes—I lost all sense of time.” My knees feel weak beneath me, threatening to buckle. “Then a different man climbed in beside me and told me he had my sister. That if I didn’t do what he asked, he’d kill her.”
The terror hits me all over again. How had he gotten custody of Kayla from Stacey? Is he someone close to Stacey? Was this Stacey’s revenge for my betrayal? I knew my actions wouldn’t go unpunished, but this?
In that car, I had a choice: defy him and risk losing Kaylaforever—after already gambling with her life once—or do whatever this new asshole demanded. He’d tossed something on my lap before he left, and when the sack was finally pulled off my head and my arms were freed, I saw it was a photo. My sister, bound and gagged in the trunk of a car that looked suspiciously like the one I’d been driven around in.
At that moment, I would have done anything.Anything.
“Yes, I did come here to spy,” I admit, the words tasting like ash. “I was told to get close to your family. He said you guys were smuggling people into the country and wanted me to get proof of that. He wanted me to feed him all the information I discovered—about you, about your father, about your importations, shipping schedules, everything. I didn’t even know who you were at the time. He just gave me a target and threatened me with my sister’s life. I was supposed to observe and report. That’s it.”
Not totally, a guilty voice hisses in the back of my mind.
Because after finding whatever he wanted… I was supposed to kill Afrim and Roan. But I can’t tell him that part. I stop pacing to look up at Roan, my heart pounding a hard, desperate staccato. I need him to believe me. I need him to be on my side.
“When was the last time youreportedto this person? What information have you given him?” Roan’s voice is hard, unforgiving, and my heart sinks at his tone.
“About a month ago. Right before you came back from Long Island. But I didn’t have anything concrete to give him at that point. Just told him about the bar, the plans you had for the estate...” My voice thins. “And… Afrim’s medical condition.”
His jaw tenses again, and my heart sinks even further. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. Maybe I just sealed my fate.
