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ChapterThirty-Nine
Gwen
It’s perfect, really.
All so perfect.
Malik is a man who doesn’t trust easily.
Many who tell you they trust no one will still have one or two people they keep close to their hearts.
That is what happened here.
This is how you get to a powerful man like Malik Volkova and his people. It’s not coming to his home with guns and threats.
It’s this. You find the person they trust more than anything and anyone, and you get them to betray your target.
No one would ever suspect Jeanne.
No one would suspect her for helping the enemy take me because she was attacked herself.
And no one would suspect Jeanne for helping the enemy take Dru because as she served me sandwiches and watched me talking to my friend, all the woman showed was sympathy.
No one is suspecting her being in my room now because she’s always going backward and forward. We spend hours talking and sharing life experiences.
No one would simply suspect Jeanne just because she’s Jeanne.
The Jeanne who took care of me. The Jeanne who taught me about this world of the Knights.
She’s the Jeanne who is always just Jeanne, like a blanket of comfort you hold close at night when you need reassurance to help you fall asleep.
She is the traitor.
The perfect, perfect traitor
“You.” My voice is broken with regret.
“Yes.” Her tone is apologetic.
“You did this to us? They hurt you?”
“They wanted to make it look legit. They didn’t kill me because they needed me to keep watch.”
That should have been the first clue.
People like Diego will kill you just for looking at him the wrong way. It should have been clear that the only reason he kept Jeanne alive was because he still needed her.
“Why? Why would you do this?” I want to shout at her and tear the skin off her face I trusted because she helped me not feel lost.
Tears slip down her cheeks and shimmer against the light. “They have my granddaughter. My Zoe.”
A steel weight drops in my stomach, and I flounder in conflict. Jeanne is the traitor, but her little granddaughter was her price.
“When did they take her?” I bring my hands together.
Jeanne lifts one trembling hand to her face and wipes away more tears that pour out of her like a broken tap.
“A week after Malik came back from Mexico.”
