Page 42 of The Perfect Deception

“I know you can,” he growls, “but let me do this.”

I throw my hands up. “Fine.”

The helicopter ride is silent, except for the steady thwack-thwack of the blades. I stare out at the ocean, my mind racing.

This case. These murders. The cameras in my home. Everything’s spinning out of control, and now I’ve been drugged.

It has to be this killer.

When we land, I turn to Damien. “I think I’m going home tonight.”

He looks at me, his face hard to read. “You blame me for this.”

“No. I just need some space to think. I need to focus on the case. Whoever did this—whoever’s behind these murders—I have to figure out what the hell is going on before another body drops.”

“You still think I’m in that photo, don’t you?”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what the killer thinks. And I need to get ahead of him. Take me home.”

“No.”

“Fine. I’m more than capable of getting there myself.” I knew he wouldn’t like it. Hell, I don’t like it. Living with him has been amazing, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve been too distracted to see the danger right in front of me. “This isn’t about you, Damien. It’s about me.”

“But I’m the one you want to leave.” His voice is tight, but there’s a pleading look in his eyes. “Stay. Go back to the guest room if you need to, but at least let me know you’re close. Please.”

I hate how much his vulnerability gets to me. “We both know if I stay, it won’t be in the guest room.”

His lips curve into a slight smile. “That’s not a problem for me.”

“Damien,” I sigh.

“You were drugged, Frankie. I need to keep an eye on you.” He steps closer, threading his fingers through my hair. “If you won’t stay, I’ll have my security team follow you.”

I don’t want to argue. “Fine. I’ll go home with you.”

He smiles, a mix of relief and satisfaction, before kissing me.

And despite everything, I kiss him back.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Damien

“I’m fine Damien. I promise.” Frankie’s tone is patient but insistent. “I went back to the doctor, and he said there are no traces of the drug in my system and since I have new memories in the seventy-two hours since I was drugged, the risk of long-term amnesia is as close to zero as the doctor will say. I’m good.”

“If you say so. Have you heard anything about the investigation?”

“Not yet. The ship’s security is investigating what happened, but nothing meaningful has come out of it. I wish I could dig deeper into it, but with this case—and you—keeping me busy, it’s hard to focus on anything else. I still can’t believe I was drugged. Thank God I’m okay.”

“That’s exactly how I feel too. Thank God my precious pet is okay.”

I won the battle to keep Frankie at the penthouse, though it wasn’t easy. No need to smother her now. We’ve become closer in ways I never thought possible since our hasty exit from cruiseliner. My brilliance shone through when I slipped that little cocktail into her water glass. Perfect timing, really. The drug took effect as she drifted off, satiated and unsuspecting. Who knew such a tiny vial could rewrite the entire story?

The moment I spotted Adrian Sharma, my mind went into overdrive. The chance encounter demanded an immediate change of plans. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity I couldn’t let slip through my fingers. The element of surprise left me scrambling, unprepared. Using anything on board was out of the question. Those pesky guest fingerprint records could trip me up. No, I’d have to get creative, pull something together on the fly.

But improvisation always did add a delicious thrill.

It was quick and easy. I slipped into his room just after he did and watched as he stepped out onto the balcony to get some air. My pulse quickened as I savored the moment, knowing his last breath of freedom was already behind him.

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