Page 100 of Devil's Riches

“I doubt that. I’ve never slipped up.”

“You’re almost eighty years old, Edward. You’re bound to forget a few things here and there. Bound to accidentally say the wrong thing.”

“Age is just a number,” he said, eyes narrowing. “I’m still sharp as a tack.”

I shook my head. “You’re wrong. You won’t get away with it.”

“I really don’t know why you care so much, Alexis.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even if I do get caught at some point in the future, it won’t affect you, because you’ll be dead,” he said. His words sent a dagger of ice through my heart. “In nine hours—actually, eight hours and fifty-four minutes—you’ll be taken into the operating theater, and you’ll go under. After that, you’ll never wake up. You’ll never have to think or care about anything ever again.”

“That’s not true,” I muttered. “Someone will find me.”

His lips curved into a malevolent smile. “You need to accept the truth, Alexis,” he said, laying a hand on my shoulder. “You’re all alone now. No one’s coming to save you.”

He was wrong. He had to be.

I closed my watery eyes and sent out a silent prayer to the universe, hoping against all hope that it would be heard.

Please, Nate. Find me.

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