But before Ben can answer, I catch Sebastian’s gaze. His eyes lock onto mine, an unspoken question in them that sends a chill through me. I’ve made a mistake. I’ve let Ben distract me.Again.
“I need to go.”
“Cybil—”
“Have a nice night, Mr. Miller.” I force a smile and back away, my feet moving quickly, but Sebastian’s watchful, suspicious stare follows me.
I turn sharply, making my way off the dance floor and heading straight for the only place I know I can escape the tension—the ladies’ restroom.
A man bumps into me, his body swaying dangerously before he reaches out, attempting to steady himself against the wall but missing the mark. He stumbles into me instead, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. “S-sorry,” he mutters, his voice strained.
I steady him, pushing his shoulders back with more force than I intended, and that’s when I notice it—his eyes a dull, glassy green, staring at me with a vacant expression. He looks unsteady. There’s no odor of alcohol on his breath, but something’s off.
“Sir, are you okay?”
His eyes shift slowly, focusing on me beneath heavy lids. “Bathroom?”
Frowning, I point to the door behind him. “Right there.”
“Thanks,” he mutters, barely making eye contact before he turns away and trudges slowly toward the restroom, each step heavy like he’s fighting just to move.
I stand there for a moment, watching him enter the restroom. Concern creeps into my chest. Should I get him help? I’m about to go find a server to check on the man when I catch a murmur of a conversation drifting toward me from the kitchen.
Ramirez. His voice is low but sharp, his words clipped, urgent. “This is the final move. We can’t afford any more delays.”
I instinctively press my back against the wall as my pulse quickens. This could be my chance to gather the information I need—if I can get close enough. But then I hear Ben’s voice, deep and steady, joining the conversation. My stomach tightens.
My mind is warring with the urge to find out what they’re saying and the reality that I might learn how deeply Ben is involved—that he might not be the man I keep wanting him to be.
The thought grips me like a vise, and for a moment I’m paralyzed. If I take one step closer, I might shatter the fragile hope I’ve been holding on to. But if I walk away now, I’ll never know the truth.
Chapter 26
Cybil
Dallas, Texas
Saturday night
Hearing Ben say my name a few minutes ago would’ve sent a thrill through me, but hearing him say it now—to Ramirez—sends a bolt of pure panic through my veins.
“Ms. Langford is—”
I jump when a clattering of pans drowns out the rest of Ben’s words. What is he telling Ramirez about me? I scoot closer to the kitchen’s doorway, desperate to hear what he’s saying.
“Somebody’s feeding them information.”
This sounds like Ramirez’s lawyer, and my heart jackhammers against my ribs.They know about me. How?
“I don’t like loose ends,” Ramirez says, his voice ice-cold. “Make the problem go away.”
Blood drains from my face. My brain kicks into overdrive, scrambling to remember every conversation, every question I’ve asked, every step I’ve taken.What did I do wrong?If I was going to get caught, I thought it would be by Mr. Edmond—not Ramirez. Not Ben.
My breathing shallows. I take a quick step back and crash into a server. The tray of empty plates tilts—then crashes to the floor with a deafening clatter.
The server swears, and I mutter a frantic apology, my hands shaking as I move around the mess, desperate to disappear before anyone sees me. But it’s too late.
A door swings open and heavy footsteps bring Ben and Rook into the hallway, their gazes scanning the wreckage before locking ontome.
