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Thayer sits on a chair in the corner of the room, discussing every detail with Fabien, thrumming his knee with his fingers.
“We could call in our men,” he says thoughtfully.
“We could, but that won’t end well for us,” Fabien says, shaking his head. “There’s no way we could bring anyone but me —”
Um, excuse me? “And me!” I chime in. If I have this job to do, I’ll do it well, dammit. I didn’t come this far to be benched.
Fabien shakes his head. “No. I won’t even have Thayer there. I have to do this alone, or we lose everything.”
He never told me he wouldn’t have me with him when he brought the talisman. Why did I assume he would?
“Fabien,” I say reproachfully, ignoring the way my nose tingles with the sudden need to cry. “You didn’t tell me I wouldn’t go. I thought we would go together. I thought the whole point—”
“Was for you to do what I say,” he snaps.
“Ah. I hear and obey, master,” I snark.
Thayer stands with a little grimace. “Annnnd, that’s my cue,” he finishes. He stands to leave when my phone rings.
Savannah
I answer on the first ring as I walk to the balcony for some privacy. I turn my back to Fabien.
“Hey,” she says, as I slide the glass door closed. “You okay?”
“I’m good. Why?”
“I tried to call you and couldn’t get through. It made me nervous.”
I can’t tell her I left my phone here when we went to the club.
“I’m fine, babe. I’m sorry you couldn’t get me. Tell me everything that happened.”
“Your…friend? Sent someone out to help me. They brought me home and checked to be sure I was safe.”
I release a breath. Just like he said he would.
But he doesn’t care about me. He doesn’t care about her.
“But I overheard something that troubled me.”
A chill skates down my spine. “What was that?” If she knows about me and Fabien…if she even knew where I worked…
“They said something about Gerard. Tell me that’s your man’s first name and not the Gerard family.”
I feel my brows snap together. I look over my shoulder to see Fabien closing the door behind Thayer.
“What do you know about the Gerard family?” I hiss into the phone.
“Uh, other than the fact that they’re French mafia? Isn’t that enough? Nicolette,” she suddenly says. “Did you—are you—you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t!”
“Didn’t what?”
The sliding glass door opens and Fabien steps out to join me. I can feel his presence before I even look over my shoulder.
“We need to talk,” he says in that commanding voice of his that brooks no opposition.
I swivel around to face him. “I’m on the phone with my sister.”
He narrows his eyes at me and clenches his jaw. “Fine. Finish your conversation.”
“Do you have to go?” Savannah asks.
“Yeah. I promise I’ll tell you everything, but I have to go for now.”
Savannah sighs on the other end of the phone. “Are you in trouble, Nicolette? I’ll come and get you. Just say the word, and I’ll find a way—”
“No, no, I’m fine, I promise. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” I ignore the way my heart races at the warning look he’s giving me. The way his voice is a low purr, like the revving of an engine.
She sighs. “Alright. Just please, be careful, okay?”
“I will,” I whisper, as I hang up the call.
“Is there a problem?”
I shake my head. “No problem.” I glance over his shoulder at the clock on the wall in the room. “I have…twelve hours until our deal is up. And when it is, how will I receive payment?”
“Any way you wish.” His voice is a lash against my skin. I flinch. “Why are you angry?”
“Angry?” I say, shaking my head. “Why would I be angry? What it is you want to talk about?”
“This attitude,” he says. I open my mouth to speak when he reaches for me, lifts me, and turns to carry me back into the room.
“That is not what you were going to talk about,” I fume. “You’re lying. Just like you have—”
I stop myself mid-sentence and turn away. I clench my teeth together.
I’m pulled against him. He tilts my chin and forces me to look into his eyes.
“Just like I have what?”
I swallow. I lick my lips. “The whole time,” I say on a whisper, my voice wobbling. “You pretended we just ran into each other. You pretended you didn’t know me. Meanwhile, it was your plan to manipulate me from the very beginning.”
When he doesn’t reply, I push. I need to know. I need him to tell me.
“Are you going to deny it?”
Deny it. Explain this away. Tell me it never happened.
When he shakes his head, my heart sinks to my toes.
His phone rings.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath. “Why can’t I get one mother fucking minute? I’m not answering it.”
