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Everything collides into me at once, and I gasp. “That, that means you’re working withthem?” All of them.
There is no need for me to elaborate on whotheyare.
“Better the devil you know,” he says without emotion. It scares me.
“How?” It’s all I can muster.
Saint looks over my shoulder. “That’s how.”
Completely baffled, I turn to see what has ensnared his attention. But when I do, I stagger back, shaking my head slowly. My gaze floats to a modest green ballgown and mask which lay on the bed. And then to Sara, who steps from the en suite, sheepishly. “No, absolutely not.”
“This isn’t negotiable,” he states. “This is the only way I can get you out of here.”
“I will not,” I press, eyes filled with tears because I could never live with myself if we went through with what he proposes.
Sara nervously toys with her hair, hair styled identically to mine. I now understand why she was so insistent that I wear extensions because her hair and her makeup are a complete mirror image of mine. “Sara, I can’t let you do this.”
“I want to,” she says in her soft voice, a voice which has carried me through this nightmare. “This is the only way he can pay for what he’s done. We’re the same size. He won’t know—”
But I raise my hand, nausea rising. “No. I won’t allow you to sacrifice yourself. He will…kill you.”
Sara and Saint propose something so far beyond valiant, it could be called suicidal. Sara is willing to take my place and pretend to be me as I slip away into the darkness in that simple green dress. The poker game is a ruse because Alek will be focused on winning back that pendant. As long as someone who looks like me is by his side, he won’t notice until it’s too late.
But when he notices, Sara will be the one to take the blame.
“I won’t,” I cry, pleading with Saint because there must be another way.
But Saint doesn’t have time for sentiments. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”
“And what happens if you fail?” Tears leak into my mouth as I gasp for air.
“Then I’m finally free.” Sara’s response makes this worse.
“No.” I rush over to her, gripping her upper arms. “We go together. That was the plan.”
“In an ideal world, that would work. But unless someone who looks like you is by his side, then no one will leave.”
“How could you?” I turn to look at Saint, horrified. “By saving me, you’re endangering someone else.”
He flinches, and I instantly feel guilty for blaming him when he’s only trying to help.
“It was my idea.” I turn back around to look at Sara, my grip on her releasing.
“What?Why?” I manage to choke out, taking off my mask. “Why would you do that for me?”
Sara smiles, and for the first time ever, it’s void of pain. “Because we’re friends.”
A sob escapes me as I place my hand over my mouth. This isn’t negotiable. The plans are set in motion. I’m to abide by them, no matter how wrong they are.
Saint stands behind me, knowing better than to touch me. “Once the game starts, you make an excuse to slip away. Come up here and Sara will be waiting. You change into the dress and mask, and we slip out through the front door. No one will know.”
Closing my eyes, I shake my head, but it’s in vain. This is happening, and it will work because no one will suspect anything. Nothing will be seen as unusual about two people walking out the door, especially two people whose true identities hide behind guises.
“What did you agree to for them to work with you?” I don’t want to know, but for this to work, I need to know every detail.
“You let me worry—”
“Tell me!” I exclaim, cutting him off.
