I text back quickly: "Tomorrow. Early."
I toss the phone onto the table and run a hand through my hair. Tomorrow. I'll deal with Marco tomorrow. But tonight... tonight I need to get her out of my fucking head.
I pour another drink and sit back down, staring into the glass.
"Elizabeth..." I whisper her name under my breath.
She's going to be the death of me. I know it.
But fuck if I care.
Tomorrow, I'll figure out Marco's next move. I'll track down every last one of those bastards that were involved in my father's death. They'll all pay. Starting with Marco.
But tonight... tonight I'll drink. And I'll think about her. About how she tastes. About how she feels. About how much I want her.
I take another sip, the burn of the alcohol doing nothing to numb the ache inside me.
One more night. That's all I need. One more night with her, and then I'll be done.
Chapter 15 - Elizabeth
I read the note again, my heart racing, eyes darting around the room. But he's long gone. The bastard.
"I prefer your green eyes, baby."
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Is this some kind of game to him? I shove the note into my purse, careful not to draw any attention to myself. No one can know. Not here, not now. I take a deep breath, force a smile as I weave through the crowd. I'm supposed to be at this charity event working, and yet…
My gut is in knots. I catch a glimpse of Marco Rossiani across the room, his smug face half-hidden behind a glass of whiskey, oblivious to the fact that I now know his identity.
Fuck!
I can't believe I now know the identity of the Phantom and his biggest rival, and somehow, I can't even tell my boss about it.
Damn it. How the hell did I get myself into this?
I slip out of the building, heart pounding in my ears. The air outside is cool, a sharp contrast to the heat burning in my chest. The car's parked where it should be, the black SUV blending into the shadows. Captain Harris is waiting by the driver's side, arms crossed, looking like he's been waiting a while. Captain Whitmore is in the passenger seat, eyes narrowing as soon as he sees me.
I square my shoulders, taking one last deep breath before walking over.
"What happened?" Harris asks, voice low but sharp.
I pull my phone from my purse, waving it in the air. "Lost signal inside. I'm not sure why."
Whitmore leans forward, his eyes scrutinizing me, as if searching for any cracks in my story. "What'd you get?"
This is the moment. The lie falls from my lips before I can think twice. "I overheard some stuff. Rossiani's people mentioned a location. Jose Herrera's base. I think it's somewhere in the hills, outside the city. I can give you details." I pause, adding some hesitation for effect. "But it's vague."
Harris's face shifts, something like pride softening his usual stern expression. "Good work, Kane. You've done well tonight."
I manage a smile, but it feels fake, hollow. If they knew what I knew, if they even had a clue…
"Go home, get some rest," Harris says. "We'll arrange a team to hit Jose's place. See what we can recover."
"Right," I say, voice tight. "Thanks."
They're all so damn proud of me. I'm playing my part perfectly, the good little undercover agent. But inside, I feel like I'm splitting in two.
I nod to them and walk away, my legs on autopilot as I head toward my car. I'm free for the night. Free to go home. But all I want to do is scream.