But this was our life.
She was her father’s daughter.
And I was the one he trusted to make sure the plan didn’t unravel.
Even if it meant burning everything to the ground.
Even if it meant pulling the trigger.
“Fine,” I agreed quietly. “But if-”
“You’ve said enough.” She glanced at me with those venom laced eyes before leaning down to pick the alcohol filled glass up from the table, “Just please let me enjoy my drink in the warmth of my own home before I have to go and play the damsel in distress in a cold fucking warehouse all weekend.”
She turned back to the window, this time fully distancing herself from me.
The door shutswith a dull thud.
When I enter the room, she is sitting on the old mattress that lays flat against the ground. From here, I can see the red that encompasses her wrists from how tight the zip ties squeeze the sensitive skin.
When I step a foot forward, her breathing betrays her before her face does.
A faint glow of the streetlamp’s light slips through the boarded window, shining gently over her face. That pretty white dress she had only bought days before is ruined beyond repair, asphalt and dirt ground into the expensive fabric.
But she looks exactly like she’s supposed to.
Fragile and innocent.
There’s a look of panic in her eyes as she watches me step slightly closer. As usual, she’s perfected the victim expression beautifully.
Anyone else would have easily believed she was being held here forcefully.
Not one inkling to suggest that she is here on her own accord.
Leigh isn’t prey. She is the director and the lead actor all at once. This entire warehouse is hers if you knew how to look.
Finnic doesn’t, of course. That is the plan after all.
I glance back at him. “What’s she given you so far?”
He shakes his head. “Same thing you heard. She claims she doesn’t know.”
My gaze slides back to her, a slow smile tugging at my mouth. “Seems someone taught her how to sell it.”
Finnic scoffs. “That’s a pretty natural reaction to a question like that. I doubt anyone had to train her for it.”
A quiet intelligence glints in her eyes, then slips away before anyone but me can notice.
I crouch down onto the concrete in front of the mattress. The zip ties creak as she shifts away.
“Natural,” I echo, tasting the word. “Sure.”
Her gaze lifts to mine once more as her lips tremble. She sells it handsomely. Even now, after all these years, there is something unsettling about how easily she can disappear into the role of a victim.
“Let’s change the question,” I breathe out. “You said your father doesn’t tell you things.” I nod, “That’s fair. Politicians are specialized in lies and secrets after all.”
I glance over at Finnic as he crosses his arms, trying to shut himself off from everything unfolding in the room.
“But he did take something,” I continue, turning my gaze back to her. “And he never returned it.”
