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You’ll Be the Death of Me

Page 123

by Crystal Kaswell

That’s a good point. But he did have handcuffs. So it’s possible he’d have the sort of drugs no one uses recreationally. No one is taking sodium pentobarbital for fun.

“Only what’s left of that bottle,” he says, motioning to the ouzo on the table.

There isn’t much, but it’s a start.

I let a plan come together in my head. At the end of the day, what I want is simple.

I want to stay alive.

If I can’t figure out who to trust to make that happen, I’ll kill anyone who poses an immediate risk.

“I prefer negotiation. Then threats, if necessary. And torture, if I must. It’s not effective. Too many false confessions,” I say, as matter-of-factly as I can.

But Matteo still hears all the implications in it. “You don’t enjoy causing pain,” he says, with admiration in his voice.

My cheeks flush. My chest, too. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m not the devil herself.”

His laugh fills the air. Makes the room light and easy. “Never, mi diavolessa.”

My chest warms. Which is ridiculous. This is so not the time.

For all I know, Yorgos sent his handler a message that I’m compromised, and Camille is the first of many people here to try to kill me.

I need to think with my brain. Not my heart. And not my clit.

From her spot in the chair, Camille moans in pain. Her head falls to one side.

She must have a high tolerance. This should leave her out for another hour. But she’s got maybe ten minutes left asleep.

“Let me take the first crack,” I say. “Can you play dead in the other room?”

“For how long?” he asks.

“Until it sounds like I need help. Or I signal for you. I’ll say ‘the moonlight is beautiful tonight.’”

“Are you sure that won’t come up in your monologue?” he asks.

“I’m not a Bond villain,” I say.

He raises a brow aren’t you?

A laugh spills from my lips. My shoulders fall. For a moment, the room feels warm. Cozy. Safe.

This is a strange time to tease, but it’s perfect too. Better to go into any mission loose. Better to have rapport with my ally.

Even if I have to kill him soon.

Matteo slips inside the bedroom and closes the door.

I fix my clothes, double-check her restraints, and stash the weapons I need under the couch.

Deep breath. Steady exhale. Focus.

This is an interrogation. I’ve done a hundred. I can do this one too.