“What did you do to Katia?”
I shrug, turn my back on Olivia, and pretend to straighten the bed. “I haven’t done anything. You know how she is.”
Olivia sighs. “I know the last meeting didn’t go as well as we’d hoped, but I’m working on something different.”
I spin around to face Olivia and ignore the lurch in my chest. “Look, I know I said I’d appreciate updates, but I think it’s time we face facts.”
“What do you mean?”
“Whatever history you have with… whoever, it’s clearly not enough to bring him to the table,” I say quietly. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but someone has to say it.”
Olivia frowns. “You don’t know the history, London. It’s not about that.”
I throw my hands in the air and shake my head. “You’re right. I don’t know the history. There’s a lot I don’t know, but it’snot for a lack of trying. You Paynes love keeping things close to the vest.”
“I know you’re risking a lot—”
“You don’t,” I say. “Do you have any idea the toll it’s taking on me? On Mason? I go to sleep every night wondering if I’m going to wake up with bars on the door and windows.”
Olivia’s frown deepens. “Mason wouldn’t do that.”
I let out a low, humorless laugh. “Wouldn’t he? I’ve seen what he does to the people who betray him, and he can make my leash a lot tighter, no matter how we feel about each other.”
I want what we have to be stronger than lies, deception, and our enemies, but I’m terrified it’s going to pull us apart eventually.
I have no idea what I’ll do if it does.
I don’t want to rebuild without Mason.
Even if I could, I don’t want to go back to the life I had before.
Mason is not going to turn his back on you, but you’d be trading a bigger set of chains for another, and you know it.
I feel like I’m going to be sick again, and the only thing stopping me is the look on Olivia’s face.
Olivia steps closer to me and drops her voice further. “I don’t want you to worry about the plan. I’ll take care of it. No one will ever know you were involved, not even Mason.”
I purse my lips. “It’s not about that. That trades one problem for another.”
I’m not sure I can live with myself if I put Olivia in the line of fire.
Not even to save my skin.
And what about your baby? Don’t they deserve to be put first? What kind of mother thinks of other people?
The baby isn’t even here, and my priorities are still skewed.
What kind of mother am I?
Why can’t I make the right decisions?
Why can’t I do what needs to be done?
“I’ll take care of it,” Olivia repeats, with a finality in her tone. “You won’t be able to help anyway if you can’t remain calm, and they’ll be able to sense your nerves from a mile away.”
I begin to pace. “Maybe using a disguise was a ridiculous idea. Maybe Miss Deveroux has lost her touch. We should try and find someone else to pass the message along.”
“London—”
