Page 72 of Wrong For Me


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According to my dad’s notes, it didn’t take long for Alec to be seen and sought out by this family. But, before he could slide into the higher role, he had to prove himself to the man on a deeper level.

His first test was strength.

He was given a series of jobs to complete, which he did without a hitch. My dad gave no details of what those had entailed, but I can only imagine.

The second was to prove his power of manipulation.

Apparently, in the world this man lives in, outsiders can’t come in and take over at the top. They have to be tied to the family.

Alec’s second task was to trick the man’s very own daughter into falling in love with him.

His daughter, Marissa Murphy.

And the third?

To murder Patrick “Trick” Rivera, my father, with the promise of any evidence that might arise being destroyed, just as it was when it came to the little girl’s murder trial.

Alec was sent back here to find what this family had failed to on their own, to find the evidence against Marissa’s family and murder my dad. The papers I stupidly delivered to her feet tonight.

Marissa’s words make sense now. I’m the job he can’t fail, the final piece in their plan, a prize they plan to keep.

This is some real next-level antihero shit.

And why does her piece-of-shit name, Marissa Murphy, sound so familiar?

God, this is too much for me today.

My head starts to spin, too much to process, too many uncertain thoughts and questions running through my mind.

I hop to my feet, the folders scattering as I do, papers falling out left and right.

Power is dangerous. What if the authority got to Alec’s head? Maybe he wants the back end, criminal style life this family is offering him at the expense of mine. Maybe money and power do rule over morality.

My stomach starts to turn, so I drop onto my bed, closing my eyes a moment as a dizzy spell hits. I reach across my comforter until I find my phone and throw my eyes open.

I unlock it and hover over Rowan’s name but pause.

Tears spear my eyes, and I drop my head back a moment.

This is insane and not something I can tell him over the phone. I stand and move to pick up the paperwork, noticing a sheet of paper that doesn’t match the rest.

I quickly rush to pick it up, scanning over the document, seeing the terms my dad outlined for his own murder contract in his notes, matching the exact words on here.

This is the actual contract.

My hand falls, my head springing left to glare at my bedroom door and then back to my closet.

Son of a bitch.

She had to be in my room.

I drop the paper, bringing my hands up to fold them over my head in thought.

The only way my dad could have known about his very own murder for hire was if Alec was being honest with him, sharing all details, as he was instructed.

More tears fill my eyes in that moment, and confusion like I’ve never felt consumes me.

If Alec is good, who killed my dad? Would he have gone that far to protect me?

Would my dad have asked him to?

I cover my mouth as a sob escapes.

In a heartbeat, he would. They both would.

I pace back and forth, taking a deep breath to try to calm my nerves. I close my eyes and picture Alec’s face. The curve of his lips, the arch of those dark brows, the bright hidden behind eager, dark eyes when he turns playful when it’s just the two of us.

I play back the last few months.

I didn’t know Alec as well as I’d thought in the years he was around, but I feel like I did before Marissa showed up and fucked with my head.

His passion for the academy, the way he pushed me, how he touched me. His eyes told me the truth he refused to speak, waiting for me to find and demand the answers myself, as if he knew I’d crave him once I saw him. He wanted me to figure it out on my own. And, when I opened my eyes and the fog cleared, he was the only thing left standing there.

He was being real. I was more than the girl he had been sent to protect, more than the job he’d accepted out of duty.

I’m the one he chose.

Before her and after.

If Marissa read over these, she knows he’s fucked them over, and she could have killed my dad out of spite.

Oh my God!

I jump to my feet again, quickly pulling on a pair of sweats from the floor.

Her stunt tonight. Of course she fucking knows, but if she saw the documents regarding her family, why did she not take them and run?

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