And my body calms.
I can breathe again.
“Is that so?” I ask to keep my cover. She has watched me closely. She’ll think Ella is scared of getting busted. That’ll work.
I’m Ella.
“One call. Think about it,” she says with a knowing grin and turns to leave me standing there.
I am close to snapping, a heavy rock in my stomach.
She walks away in her high heels over the cobblestones as if it were a flat runway. With an ass from heaven. Deliberate steps of confidence.Framed by two bodyguards.
I watch her being driven off with two black Escalades, before I stare at the card in my hands. I have to remind myself, physically, what the real thing is.
She knew what Sutton did.
She was part of it, I am sure now.
She’s like him.
Luring in women with the promise of papers.
She is guilty.
She has to die.
I shake my head and draw my shoulders back. I have to kill her. Soon.
But first, I have to find out who else is after her. Because that other player has been looking for information, too. Information to kill for and go to the length of hiding the traces. I want to know who it is and why.
I sit down as I listen to the saxophones play a beautiful piece for another moment, thinking about what I am going to do next. With each passing minute, my body calms further.
Maybe the best thing is to get some distance between her and me for right now. I could take care of the Prime Minister first.
I can’t have the closeness. It just can’t be. I can’t get triggered by her. But I also have the chance to find out how she is doing it and get to the depths of the organization.
I jump up and walk. I have to blow off whatever just happened. My feet carry me all the way through Dumbo to Brooklyn, and it is night when I sit down by the piers to glance at the illuminated city I love.
I still have the card in my hand and stare at it again, before I do something fundamentally stupid. I take my phone and dial her number.
“Knightley,” she answers in her bossy tone. I just let it sit a moment with me before I answer.
“Tell me the conditions,” I finally say.
Lilian smiles audibly.
“Give me your email,” Lilian says.
“I know you already have it,” I say, and Lilian huffs out a suppressed laugh.
“I’m sending you a contract, including an NDA,that can be discussed, but let me be very clear with one thing,” Lilian says, and her voice gets darker. “There will be no romance or annoying feelings, are we clear?”
No romance. No feelings. That’s an odd thing to say if you plan to drug and use someone, right? It all makes no sense to me at this point.
I laugh out loud to overplay my confusion, and also because the thought of having feelings is obscene to me. With it, I totally forgot that I am supposed to be Ella Larsen.
“No feelings, huh,” I say. “Scared of getting hurt?”
