Page 49 of The Perfect Deception

“Yes, something is seriously wrong!”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.” My voice trembles under the weight of my worry. “I’m terrified your name is on someone’s kill list, and you refuse to do anything to save your life!”

“Frankie,” he begins, but I cut him off.

“No. I’ve let you get away with your excuses for too fucking long, but you know what I saw today, Damien?” I don’t wait for him to respond. “The obnoxious prick from the cruise showed up on the ME’s table.”

He shakes his head, crossing his arms across his chest. “Francesca.”

I set my bag down and toss out the photo I showed him earlier of him and the other kids from Hope House. “I knew his last name sounded familiar because Zeke, theother victimfrom Hope House, gave us these photos and the names he could remember. Adrian Sharma.”

His gaze lands on the photo, scanning each face.

“They look familiar, don’t they?”

“No.” He lies about this so easily, so effortlessly, and it’s starting to piss me off.

“Damien, please. The boys in this photo are being picked off, one by one.” I show him a copy of the photo with the faces of each victim crossed off. “You’re in this photo and these men right here are still alive, or they might be if you tell me who they are so we can warn them. So, I can save them.” My chest is heaving and I’m out of breath from pleading with him so hard.

His phone rings, and he glances at it, irritation flashing across his face. “I have to take this.”

“Sure,” I scoff. “Go ahead, it’s only a matter of life and death. Literally.”

Damien answers the phone and his voice fades as he walks outside on the penthouse balcony.

Bastard!I’m angry. I’m worried and I’m damn scared that the killer was after Damien on that ship and he’s so fucking nonchalant about it I want to scream. I pace the length of the living room, determined to find some argument that will get him to give me something that will help him and his former housemates.

After a few minutes, I stop pacing and drop down on the plush sofa, watching Damien’s body language as he paces the balcony. “Why don’t you care?” I ask out loud. He’s a billionaire with his own protection, but the killer is an expert at getting into places he shouldn’t.

Locked and secured homes. Suites on yachts. He’s able to move around without being seen or, if seen, not remembered. He’s a fucking ghost who can apparently walk through walls, skills that even the most highly trained bodyguards can’t overcome.

The back of my eyes burns and before I know it, tears stream down my cheeks. Damien’s life is in danger, dammit. Finally, after years of assholes and singledom, I’m in love with a man and he’s going to die soon if I can’t figure out who this killer is and why he’s killing. I swipe at my tears, angry that this is how it’s going to go. Angry that Damien doesn’t care.

“Frankie.” Damien’s voice is so quiet I didn’t even hear him approach. “I’m sorry.”

I jump up from the couch, letting him see the raw fear and worry on my face, the tears I can’t hold back. “I don’t want your apology, Damien. I want a future with you—a real fucking future! But you’re hell-bent on getting yourself killed!”

His eyes narrow as he scans my face. “Fine, Frankie,” he snaps, his voice suddenly sharp. “Do you want me to tell you that’s meand my sister in that fucking photo? Will that make you happy?” He jabs a finger at the images like they’re poison, yet keeps his distance, as if getting too close to them might burn him.

“I want you to trust me with this.”

“Trust you?” He lets out a bitter, humorless laugh. “You’re trying to destroy everything, Frankie! My life. My career. My reputation!”

I’m shocked by the anger in his words. “Damien, I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m trying to keep you alive and if you know anything about these people you have to let me know. No one will care you were in foster care. That doesn’t change who you are.”

“Bullshit!” he roars, his voice echoing off the walls. “It’s all bullshit.”

“Jesus Christ, Damien. I can’t protect you if you keep lying to me!”

He turns away, staring out at the city lights beyond the window. “Now you’re calling me a liar. You know what? Just forget it, okay. I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know that!” My voice rises, shaking with urgency. “This killer is dangerous! I’m telling you—he was trying to poison you, to make it easier to kill you!”

“You still don’t fucking get it, do you?” He steps back, pulling away from me, his anger boiling over. “This isn’t just about you and me! This is fucking upeverythingI’ve built. I hope you’re fucking happy!”

“Damien, please?—”

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