Ella, answer as Ella.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Why did you leave Denmark?”
“Always thought there was more to life than the nothingness of the town I was born in.”
“Then why don’t you take up my offer?” asks Lilian. “Everything is right in front of you.”
“I can’t,” I say and break the gaze to stare at the table.
“And why is that?”
I want to scream at her.
Because everything is fake. Because you are a lying she-devil who participated in a network of traffickingand murder. Because you are the one percent asshole who doesn’t give a fuck about anything. Because I was fucking raped and promised the fucking same thing by your business partner.
Instead, I say, “Because I do romance, and you don’t.”
Because I am supposed to be Ella.
My eyes wander back to hers, just in time to see the mask slide back up.
“If you ask me,” says Lilian with eyes like slits, “You are lying to yourself.”
I groan because Lilian isn’t easily fooled. She sees there’s something underlying, something that doesn’t add up, and it’s because I am performing poorly.
So, I don’t respond.
We glance into each other’s eyes. A flutter stirs in me. I need to get away.
“You really need to work on your issues to take a no,” I finally say, and Lilian laughs.
“Why?” she says, “Works out fine that way, doesn’t it?”
I only sigh and get up to leave.
“You and your fuck ton of money can pay for this here,” I say as I walk away.
I walk past the bodyguard, and if I wasn’t entirely wrong, I saw his eyes twitch in an approving twink.
As I step outside onto the sidewalk, I inhale the night air and absorb the night hour buzz of Manhattan. It clears my mind instantly.
And I need the clarity. Because I have to end it. What Sutton had on her is enough. I can’t get any closer than this. It has to happen tonight, before anything else happens.
By the time I reach Ella’s home, I have made out at least three people tailing me. One by car, one by foot, and one by cycle.
The first thing I do is set up ghost traffic on the phone for five hours, so it looks like I am in bed and falling asleep at some point.
I also block all cameras on any device associated with the Ella identity.
Afterwards, I slip into some comfy clothes, cover my hair, put on gloves, and begin to erase traces. I always keep an emergency set close by, just in case, so I can clean out everything fast if necessary.
I clean the apartment so it doesn’t raise any suspicion, just in case someone comes looking and things go wrong, private as much as federal. I will take the important stuff with me anyway, meaning my own laptop and burners, guns, munitions, knives, medkit, injections, drugs, and the rest can be found without anything traceable to the real me.
I stand in the middle of the apartment, the acid smell from the wiping penetrating my nose, thinking. I am still not sure how I am going to kill her. She has a highly secure house, and a kill at a distance seems preferable to me because getting close to her is dangerous.
But getting to her at a distance is almost impossible right now. I know her bodyguard is a former Secret Service agent who earned several medals of honor for his service; he’s not one to be fooled.
