Page 82 of Sinister Intentions

Iset slowed her pace, her gaze flicking toward me. Then she turned to face me fully, her expression unreadable. “You feel okay here?” Her voice was low, tinged with a hint of concern.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. Was I okay? Absolutely not. But something—call it foolish bravery or sheer desperation—pushed me to nod.

A ghost of a smile tugged at Iset’s lips. “Alright then.” She inclined her head toward a free table. “Do you want a beer?”

I nodded.

Iset went to the bar while I took a chair at the table. I let my gaze sweep over the crowded space. Nobody paid me any attention, which was a relief, but I didn’t see any of my friends either. Maybe they hadn’t gotten here yet.

Iset handed me a glass and slid into the seat across from me, her dark eyes sweeping the crowded space with a guarded wariness that mirrored my own.

I traced the condensation on my glass with my fingertip, acutely aware of Iset’s scrutinizing gaze.

“So,” I began, my voice barely audible over the noise and music, “what do you think will happen? If our identities are revealed?”

Iset’s expression remained inscrutable as she leaned back and settled her shoulders against the worn leather of the booth. “The auction is set for this afternoon,” she said, her lips barely moving. “Either it already happened or will be any second now.”

A chill raced down my spine at her words, the gravity of our situation sinking in. How could she stay so cool while my throat constricted as I swallowed hard, fighting against the rising tide of panic? “How will we know?”

Iset’s gaze flicked to mine, holding it for a beat. “Life is about taking risks,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Things going wrong is always a possibility.”

I nodded jerkily, my fingers curling into tight fists beneath the table. She was right, of course. From the moment I’d first slipped into the online world of hacking, I’d known the consequences of getting caught. I just thought it would be my father figuring things out, not some stranger paying money to get my realidentity. The reality of it still felt like a punch to the gut. “What will they do with the information once they know?”

A roar from a nearby table made me flinch, my nerves completely frayed.

Iset seemed to sense my unease, her expression softening ever so slightly. “Hey,” she said, leaning forward. “We’ll figure this out, okay? We’re too smart not to.”

Her words were a lifeline, a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos swirling around inside of me. So I clung to them, forcing myself to meet her gaze. In that moment, despite our probable vast differences, I felt an inexplicable kinship with this woman—this virtual stranger who understood the weight of the predicament I was in, in a way no one else could.

A familiar burst of raucous laughter reached my ears, shattering the moment. I turned, my gaze landing on a group of my friends from the gym as they spilled through the entrance, loud, full of boisterous energy, and most likely already drunk, if their level of noise was any indicator.

Iset followed my line of sight, her brows arching slightly. “Friends of yours?”

I nodded, the corners of my mouth tugging upward despite myself. “Yeah. From my old life, I guess.”

The words hung heavy in the air as I suddenly realized what my subconscious had struggled with for quite some time. This was it—my last hurrah, the final farewell to the world and the life I’d known before everything went to hell. Because either I disappeared or I would be forced to marry Matteo Salvini—and with either scenario, my life as I’d known it was over.

A bittersweet ache settled in my chest, but I forced it down, plastering on a smile as my friends descended upon our table in a whirlwind of hugs and jovial greetings.

Iset seemed to click with them instantly. Her guarded demeanor melted away as she bantered and laughed alongside them. I’d always admired people who could adapt to new situations and people like that.

She looked at me as if she sensed me staring, winked, then turned back around, focused on the conversation, and laughed at a joke one of the guys made.

I watched, a sense of disbelief mingling with relief but also sadness. If I’d met Iset under different circumstances, I would’ve wanted to become friends.

Because my intuition told me she could’ve become someone I could share a genuine connection with.

As the drinks flowed and the laughter grew louder, I allowed myself to get swept up in the fun—and be pulled onto the dance floor.

If this was the last time I’d be able to hang out with the people from my old life, I would at least cherish this time instead of broodingly watching from the sidelines.

This might be my final chance to blow off steam for a while, as well.

At least until I made the final decision on how to go on.

I exhaled slowly, then took a swig of my beer before moving my hips to the music. Who was I kidding? I had to disappear, no matter what. Vincenzo Salvini—despite kissing me—was not oneto change his mind. My father was not one to break a promise, and I would not change my mind either.

Marrying Matt Salvini? Never.

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