“The door was locked. Knocking seemed redundant.”
She laughs, short and sharp. “Fair point.”
I watch her lie there, chest heaving, hair splayed around her head like a dark halo. The expensive clothes we provided are rumpled, slept in. She looks human. Vulnerable. Nothing like the snarling creature who threatened me with a decanter.
I don’t trust it.
“I have a proposition,” I say.
She sits up, crossing her legs beneath her. “That sounds ominous.”
“You want to be useful. I’m giving you the chance.”
Her eyes narrow. “What type of useful?”
I pull a chair from the corner and sit across from her, maintaining distance. “You were a courier. You know routes, drop points, timing protocols. I want you to review some documents. See if anything looks familiar.”
“And if I help you, what do I get?”
“You get to stay in this room instead of the cells downstairs. You get meals. Books. Whatever entertainment you want within reason.” I pause. “You get to live.”
She studies me, her expression unreadable. Then she smiles, and it’s not a nice smile.
“So, I’m an asset now. Not a prisoner.”
“You’re both. The distinction depends on your behavior.”
“Cute.” She stands, stretching her arms above her head, and I force myself not to track the movement. “Fine. Bring me your documents. I’ll play your game.”
“It’s not a game.”
“Everything’s a game.” She walks to the window, pressing her palm against the glass. “Some people don’t know they’re playing.”
I stand to leave, then stop. There’s something I need to say, something that’s been gnawing at me since last night.
“Viktor.”
She goes still. Doesn’t turn around.
“He died quickly,” I say.
Her shoulders tighten. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No. It’s supposed to be the truth.”
She’s quiet. When she speaks, her voice is softer than I’ve heard it. “He told me I was too smart for this life. Said the debts weren’t meant to be paid—they were meant to own me.”
“He was right.”
She turns to face me, and her eyes are wet but not crying. “Then why am I still here?”
“Because I’m not the Castillo’s.”
The words come out before I can stop them. They hang in the air, heavier than they should be, loaded with meaning I don’t want to examine.
Alexandra tilts her head, studying me like I’m a puzzle she’s trying to solve. “No,” she says quietly. “You’re not.”
I leave before I can say anything else.
