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I need to focus. Remember why I'm here. "I'll be ready when you contact me," I say briskly.
Alessa surveys me a moment longer, face inscrutable. Then she inclines her head curtly. "We have an understanding, then. I'm trusting you to honor it, Agent Miller. Don't make me regret it." She turns away without a goodbye and walks off into the night.
I stand watching until she disappears, my breath a ghostly white vapor in the chill air, wondering what the hell I'm doing.
CHAPTER9
ALESSA
I close the door of my townhouse behind me and lean back against it, letting out a long breath. The click of the lock sliding into place echoes through the foyer, underscoring just how empty my home feels now.
Somehow I feel more shaken tonight, after sharing a meal with Natalie Miller, not to mention several hours of charity work, than I did when I set her free the other day. Still…Natalie surprised me tonight as much as she did that day, too.
And I still get that throb in my clit every time I'm around her.
That's a problem.
I shrug off my heavy coat and drape it over the banister. The crystalline chandelier overhead bathes everything in a soft glow. This house has borne witness to lavish parties and decadent sins beyond counting, the very walls steeped in hedonism and secrets. Now, only silence and shadows remain.
For the first time in my life, this place feels hollow. A gilded tomb.
I can't go upstairs and go to bed, despite the sudden exhaustion that crowds me. I can't go anywherenearmy damn bed before I've processed tonight, because Natalie Miller is the only woman who's ever shared it.
I've never fucked anyone in that bed but her. Everyone else…I had them at the Ruby. Or in a club somewhere. Or up against a wall, or in a bathroom stall, or eventheirbedroom.
But Natalie's the only one who ever made it past my defenses and into my inner sanctum.
I pour myself a generous glass of scotch from the bar in the living room, determined to drown out the unwelcome introspection creeping through my veins. But as I sink down onto the plush velvet sofa, I'm assaulted by memories far more intoxicating than any liquor.
This is where Natalie and I...
The first time. It was here, on this damned sofa.
A spike of pain lances through me. I clench my jaw, forcing away the image of her above me, hair mussed and lips kiss-swollen, eyes dark with desire. A mirage crafted by a skilled deceiver. An act convincing enough to fool even me.
I take a burning gulp of scotch, willing it to scald away the lingering ghosts of her touch. Natalie played me masterfully, I'll give her that. She saw my weakness and exploited it ruthlessly. Let herself become a key into this forbidden world I've built.
I should have known better. My father always warned me against getting too close. Against letting anyone see beneath the armor. And now, thanks to my lapse in judgment, everything is at risk—everything important.
Not just my freedom, but Elena's as well.
I abandon the scotch on the coffee table, suddenly agitated. Nowhere seems free of my memories of Natalie at the moment. Pacing to the window, I peer out at the street.
Wait. Is that—
I blink, lean in closer to scrutinize a shadow. But my phone vibrates in my pocket, distracting me, and when I look up again, either the shadow has gone, or I've stopped being so paranoid, because there's nothing there. I retrieve my phone to find a coded message from my father awaiting me:
Red bird still in blue cage. Wings clipped.
I exhale slowly. Daddy hasn't been able to extract Elena Martinez from the Mancinis' clutches yet. Which means her situation remains dire.
We're running out of time.
I chew my bottom lip, considering something that Natalie said tonight.
Juno.
She might offer a way forward. One I've been avoiding out of pride or sheer stubbornness. But I'm not too proud to do whatever it takes to save that girl. Asking Juno for help is dangerous—for her and for me—but she understands better than anyone that family comes first. Blood before all else.
