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It was a construct. None of it was real. I was never in danger.
Though my hammering heart and trembling limbs need a little more time to adjust to the news.
“You did well,” Keane says, flashing a grin that puts his dimples on full display.
Hawke nods in agreement, but Arthur’s face gives nothing away.
Then Keane holds up a tablet displaying a series of jagged lines that reminds me of a polygraph test. “You’ll need to work on keeping your pulse stable, but considering how it’s your first go…”
“You weremonitoringme?” I ask, though I probably should’ve guessed when Charlotte fitted me into this catsuit.
He nods. “Anyway,” he adds, “what do you say we take ten before we move on to the next one?”
“Next one?” I look to Braxton, a mix of excitement and apprehension building inside.
“Looks like you’ve earned a trip to Venice,” he says.
