Page 101 of To All the Men I’ve Killed Before

I smile at the memory. Tor, Maisie and I had all been at this charity gala that Hen’s dad was giving some speech at. The charity was Charlie’s and the party was in the John Madejski Gardens at the Victoria and Albert Museum. I remember the first time I saw him, sitting on a wall, rubbing his face and trying to hide his nerves as he went over his own speech. He was honestly the best-looking man I’d ever seen in my life. He’d spotted me staring and gave me a shy smile. I was smitten after that. I look at him now. I still am.

‘That was quite a night,’ I say and Charlie smiles.

‘It was.’ We stare into each other’s eyes for a couple of beats.

‘I’m still going to kill him,’ I say. ‘Aidan Ward.’ I watch Charlie’s face closely for his reaction. To my surprise, he doesn’t even flinch. ‘When we’ve found Antoinette. I’m going to kill him and I’m going to enjoy it.’

‘Good,’ Charlie says. ‘He deserves it.’ He’s staring at me now and the eye contact is so intense I have to look away.

‘Do you mean that?’ I whisper. He leans across the table and takes my hands in his.

‘I really do. I’ve had time to think, as well as miss you. Time to really think about what you said to me in France.’

I grimace. I don’t want to be reminded of that awful conversation we had in the kitchen of the house Charlie had been held captive in for days.

The conversation where I told him exactly who I really am.

The conversation where I had to watch myself fall off the pedestal Charlie had put me on.

The conversation where my boyfriend seemed to fall out of love with me before my eyes.

‘And I understand why you’re out here. Why you needed to find … that man.’

‘But now I’ve lost Antoinette,’ I say with a sigh. ‘I only just found my sister and now she’s gone. And it’s all my fault.’ I hear my voice break on the last word.

Charlie reaches across the table and touches my hand gently. ‘We’ll find her,’ he says. ‘I promise you, Kitty. We’ll find her.’

I nod, biting back the sob in my throat.

At that moment my phone beeps.

It’s face-down on the table and I pick it up and look at it.

A text.

From an unknown number.

There haven’t been many points in my life when I’ve felt absolute and genuine fear.

When the world seems to tilt and everything inside turns to ice.

In fact maybe only once before. Earlier this summer when I was drunk and alone on the beach in Cannes with a man I’d met in a bar.

But even that doesn’t compare to how I feel right now.

Because the only person in danger then was me.

I suck in a breath and hand the phone to Charlie, not wanting to look at the words anymore.

Although, even when he has the phone, I can still see them.

Like they’ve been burned into my brain.

I’ve got your sister. The one who wouldn’t stay in her lane.

She’s got 24 hours.

Then I’m coming for you.