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“Thank you,” I say, trying to change the topic, “for all of this,” I motion to the clothes strewn around me. “But I won’t be needing it. I think I ought to get out of your way.”
“Why don’t you allow people to help you?” he asks, annoyed.
“I don’t need the help. I’ve learned that people often ... disappoint.”
He nods. “I understand. I felt disappointed when I found you hacking my system. But here I am, giving you a chance, aren’t I?
Touché.
Knowing he’s won the argument, he follows with a short order - “Breakfast is at the table. Come. We need to talk.”
I follow him, feeling his gaze on me as we walk toward the dining table. The smell of fresh croissants and coffee fills the air, and my stomach grumbles with hunger.
He pulls a chair for me, and I sit down, feeling his eyes on me as I bite the croissant. The silence between us is magnetic, and I can feel drawn to him.
“What do you want from me?” I finally ask, my voice shaking slightly.
“Answers,” he says simply. “What’s your real name?”
“Emily,” I say, after thinking about what to do next. There was no way I could tell him who I really was.
After all, my father is his arch-nemesis and may also know about the bounty on my head. “Emily Jackson.”
“You aren’t lying, Emily?” he sings.
“No,” I say, my cheeks burning.
He smiles, and his gaze softens for a moment. “Best of luck to you then, Emily. For I have a lot of questions. Who was that man?”
Okay, now I’m stuck. So stuck. What can I say? I feel torn inside.
“He was a collector,” I say finally. I feel guilty lying, yet I must do what is necessary to protect my identity and safety.
He nods. “A collector? What did he want?”
I can feel my cheeks flush as I try to think of something... anything.
At this point, all those true crime documentaries come to mind, mixed with the real-life horrors of the mafioso dealings.
“I owed him money that I could never pay back, so he asked me to do some spying on some of his targets, including you - certain mafioso, so he could sell it to others.”
I choose to tell the truth because from now on, with Felix, I want to tell the truth when I can. I continue - “That was his form of allowing me to repay his debts.”
“He wanted information,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “To resell.”
He pauses for a moment and leans back in his chair thoughtfully. Then he finally breaks the silence by saying, “Why did you need the money in the first place?”
This is where I know I can disguise the truth and flirt with a lie - a borderline half-lie.
“I was running from a bad ex. He could’ve killed me, and I...I have no family. No one to protect me. I needed to start fresh in a different city with unfamiliar faces. I needed money.”
My voice cracks as I say this because the truth hurts. As of now, it does seem as though I have no family.
What do I have? A father who wants me dead and a mother who, if discovered to have aided in my escape, would find herself dead?
My siblings - people I couldn’t reach out to, for I would only endanger my life.
He pauses and waits for me to gather my senses.
