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Every wealthy businessman and politician.
Everyone.
I tried to pass Monica off to security as quickly as I could while Bastian took long strides from the corner booth to meet me.
“You always surprise me, De Luca.” His eyes skated over my body, cataloging it for damage. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I remembered I wasn’t supposed to know who Monica was. “That chick is nuts.”
Would I ever be able to tell the truth with him? I longed for the day it’d be just us. No lies, no pain, no guilt between us.
“That’s an understatement.”
He pinched the fabric of my dress at the hip and tugged me closer. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional, but up until now, every intimate interaction we’d had had been done in secret.
I felt the eyes on us as he pressed a kiss to my forehead, and the grime of the lies slid off me with just one kiss. He could bottle it up and cure death with his kisses.
I took a step back. “You should go back to your table.”
“Why?”
“For one, everyone is staring, and this night isn’t supposed to be about drama or me. It’s about Vincent.”
He stepped back and stared at me. “You’re different.”
“Than?”
“Than what I’d thought you’d be.”
Than Elsa.
I saw the thought in his eyes. She’d damaged him, and I wanted to press my hands on him and put the pieces back together in a way that would fit mine.
“I’d hope so. You hated me when you met me.”
In the corner of my eye, I caught the security guards talking to Monica at the door. She was three seconds from getting kicked out, so I urged Bastian back to his table.
I needed to follow Monica. It blew my mind that no one else in the bureau thought releasing her was a huge risk. The woman was insane.
I skimmed my eyes across the bar, making sure no one noticed me before following Monica as she fled through the front door. My flat boots kept my footsteps silent, but I shook in the cold, my little black dress not covering enough skin.
These shoes were not made for following. I dodged a puddle, and my shoes made a small skid noise.
Monica tensed and swerved into the nearest alleyway. Dumb move. She’d only blocked herself, and for the first time in a while, I was geared for a fight.
I followed her into the alleyway, picking up my speed because she knew I was behind her anyway. The moon barely lit us both as she swiveled around to face me.
“Stop following me!” She had wide, frantic eyes. Crazed.
I tried to call her down. “Monica—”
“How do you know my name?!” God, she sounded terrified. Recognition dawned on her face as I took another step closer, the moonlight hitting me from a different angle. “You’re from the bar. You’re one of them.”
When I took another step closer, she yanked a gun from her waistband.
A gun.
I knew she was a risk to release. Her hands shook as she pointed it at me. She looked like she’d never held a weapon before.
