I blinked, lowering my index finger.
“I want you to tell me what kind of relationship you have with Senator Jones,” he continued.
I studied the man's face for a moment. Light green eyes, frightening, hungry, like a wolf on the hunt, yet as magnificent as any jewel. Angular lines accentuating his masculine features, molding a sharp jaw covered with dark stubble. And an upturned nose giving him an undeniable, almost boyish, charm. Damn, he was attractive. His black, wavy hair was neatly combed back, his clothes seemed to fit his broad body perfectly …
That's when my brain finally processed it.
His appearance. His clothes. Those glasses. The secrecy. The posture. The request for information...
“Oh my God... You're an FBI agent, aren't you?”
The man backed away, an unreadable expression on his face, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Answer my question, Signorina Parker. What is your relationship with Senator Jones?”
I took a deep breath and straightened up. As far as I could see, the man was not pleased at all to have been discovered. Now that I thought about it, him being an agent explained the conversation he had with Oliver. I knew that my boss's past was, so to speak, on the fringes of the law, often involving the feds, although he had never gone into much detail. No wonder he had been able to identify the stranger.
I decided to cooperate. I didn't feel like spending the rest of my miserable life in jail.
No, sir.
“Senator Jones is my boyfriend's mother,” I explained timidly, suddenly ashamed for thinking that a federal agent wanted to blackmail me in exchange for sex.
The man, Camillo, frowned. “I wasn't informed that the senator had a second child.”
I shook my head. “She doesn't. I was her son's girlfriend... before he died.”
“Hmm...” I looked up at the sound of that grunt, realizing he was watching me closely. “That was twelve years ago.” My God, the man really did some digging. “Why is Senator Jones still after you?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but had to swallow the lump that appeared in my throat whenever I was asked questions like that.
I forced a smile. “Because he died because of me.”
I tried hard not to let the smile slip, because if I did, the tears that now clouded my vision would end up rolling down my cheeks. Camillo stared at me with an expression I didn't understand, shifting uncomfortably. He took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms over the chest. It was as if he was analyzing the information I had given him, probably comparing it to something he already knew.
“And how did it happen?”
“We had an accident on the train tracks.”Smile, Daisy. Smile. “I couldn't get out in time. He went back to help me. I got out, but he didn't.”
The man's light green eyes changed for a fraction of a second. They softened, becoming almost gentle. I crossed my arms behind my back and clenched my teeth, smiling as best I could.
The past was a place I hated to revisit, but one I was thrown back to on a daily basis.
“It was a tragic accident.” The man purred, and my breathing became shaky, yet I remained in control. The sinister look was back in his eyes. “This conversation never happened, Signorina Parker. Understood?”
“Of course, of course! Classified information!” I managed to say despite how much my chest hurt. “But, if I may ask, Mr. Agent, why is Senator Jones being investigated?”
The man looked at me, his eyes wide open.
“As I said, classified information,” he replied, turning his back and leaving the restaurant as quickly as someone who had seen a ghost.
Finally alone, I rubbed my face with my hands and whimpered. If Oliver knew what I had said and done, he would wring my neck. He repeated to me over the years not to get too involved with clients, not to ask questions, not to take unnecessary risks. But what did I do? I slapped an FBI agent.
Way to go, Daisy. Nice work.
Chapter 15
Daisy Peonia Mary Parker
July, 2025
