Page 8 of The Cousins and the Brunette

“Your name would be a good start.”

“Why?” I took another step back, gripping the pipe tighter.

Elites didn’t just approach street rats like me unless they wanted something, and it was rarely anything good.

His lips curled into a patronizing smile. “I’ve been searching for a girl like you for hours, and you’ll do nicely.”

Oh, hell no. My stomach roiled. I’d rather eat week-old garbage than play dress-up doll for some creepy Elite with a fetish.

“Listen, I’m not a hooker, and I don’t trade sex for food, so go to hell.” The words came out sharper than the jagged edges of metal around us, but they didn’t seem to faze him.

Mr. Shoemaker laughed, a peal that seemed foreign in the silence of the dilapidated market. “Oh, you misunderstand me. I want to hire you—for a job that requires your...unique looks.”

An Elite offering someone like me a job? Not unheard of, but still really strange. Some people did work for the Elites, mostly as maids or drivers, or whatever.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“Far from it.” He nodded, calm as ever. “You see, there are certain individuals—let’s call them the Porters—who pose a threat to my family. And I need someone to impersonate my daughter. The Porters are evil Elites who want to hurt my family. I need a diversion.”

Evil Elites, huh? As if there was any other kind. This guy was either delusional or playing me for a fool. Probably both.

I crossed my arms, my skepticism hardening my stance. “Oh?”

“And I’m willing to pay a hefty sum for your cooperation…you didn’t tell me your name.”

Real money could change everything for Kay and me, but could I trust this man? Everything about him seemed shady as hell.

I scratched my head and stared at the man. On one hand, I had a chance to finally give Kay the life she deserved. On the other, getting tangled up in some Elite power play that would probably end with me dead in a ditch.

“Brynn Soto.”

“Nice to meet you. Now, think of it, Brynn. With the money that I’ll pay you, you could escape this...” He gestured to the rubble around us and wrinkled his nose. “Horrid life.”

Damn him for knowing exactly how to lure me in. The conflict within me was clashing with my desperation. It would mean betraying some part of myself, my independence, but wasn’t the money worth the cost?

I shook my head. “I’m…not sure I want any part of this. Sorry.”

Mr. Shoemaker’s lips curved into a sympathetic smile. “I understand your hesitation, Brynn. But please, consider the gravity of the situation. My daughter’s life hangs in the balance.”

I rolled my eyes. Rich people and their melodrama. I bet his idea of danger is running out of caviar at a dinner party.

I snorted, unable to contain my skepticism. “Right, because Elite problems are so relatable to us street rats.”

“You’d be surprised how universal fear can be,” he countered, his tone softening. “Even those born into privilege aren’t immune to danger.”

This reeked of a setup, but the promise of a better life for Kay... it was intoxicating. “And what happens when your daughter inevitably shows up? I’m just supposed to vanish into thin air?”

Mr. Shoemaker’s brow furrowed. “Elizabeth is...indisposed. She won’t be an issue.”

She was probably lounging on a yacht in the Mediterranean, sipping champagne and complaining about the Wi-Fi signal. Must be nice.

I arched an eyebrow. “That’s not cryptic at all.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Details are inconsequential. What matters is your decision. Are you willing to step into a life of luxury, even temporarily, to secure your future?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Luxury with a side of mortal peril. Sounds like a real five-star vacation.”

“I assure you, the danger is minimal,” he pressed. “The Porters are all bark and no bite. Your role would be more of a deterrent than anything else. There are rumors they may try to kidnap my daughter, nothing major.”

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