Page 76 of The Puppetmaster

When my office looks just the way I left it the last time I was in here, I step back into the lavish entrance hall, pausing at the foot of the steps as I listen for her screams. But she has gone silent. I could hear her all the way down here after I left her in her bedroom, but it’s quiet now. Instead, as I walk up the stairs, I’m met with the same sound that called for my attention earlier when I checked on Alena.

The cat is sitting in front of Alena’s room, meowing and pushing against the door like it did downstairs. When it notices my presence at the end of the hallway, it freezes for a moment before meowing at me.

“You little traitor,” I whisper as I approach the animal. “First you tell on her and now you want to be with her?”

The cat regards me with its usual face, somewhat grumpy and entirely unimpressed by me. It quiets when I stop before Alena’s bedroom door but doesn’t step aside, its eyes glued on me expectantly while I listen for any sounds coming out of her room.

But there’s nothing. It’s completely silent in Alena’s room, which fills me with worry. It’s been less than an hour since I left her up here, and while I’m sure there’s nothing she could—or would—use to harm herself, the tense stillness still doesn’t sit right with me.

Neither does the thought of leaving her all alone for as long as it will take me to prepare my defense. I worry about her and I feel terrible for what happened.Fuck. I can't leave her in there all by herself.

My eyes fall on the white furry thing at my feet, surprised to see the cat still sitting there, weirdly close and continuing to stare up at me.

“Fine, you check on her,” I hiss in a whisper, hurrying to unlock the door before I can change my mind.

I open it just far enough for the cat to slip through, which it does within an instant.

Then I close it again, making sure to lock it securely before I leave.

Chapter 47

Alena

I’m not alone when I come to. Salwa is napping close to me, nestled against my chest as I lay on my side, curled up in a fetal position, a crust of dried tears covering my face.

The shock of my discovery and the hysterical outburst wore me out so much that I couldn’t help but doze off. My entire body was drained from what happened, the pain running so deep through my veins that I couldn’t feel anything but the despair that this revelation about Raad brought upon me.

I lay down on the bed as best I could, my arms still in a tight bind around my body when I drifted off to sleep. The light has changed outside, dusk settling over the city with warmth and honey-like sunlight.

My shoulder hurts from sleeping on my side like this, and when I shuffle to turn around, Salwa lifts her head, releasing a faint meow as she glares at me before lowering her head back down.

I let her be and fight my way back into a seated position. He let Salwa in to be with me. That means he must have been up here, maybe even inside the room.

But he didn’t do anything. He didn’t wake me to talk to me. He was probably glad that I was asleep so he wouldn’t have to face me.

That fucking coward.

I never thought I’d ever think those words about him, but that’s exactly what he is, a coward.

And what am I? What do you call a person who fell head over heels for a criminal of the worst kind just because she thought he was attractive and promising? Oh, and so mysterious.

Of course he was mysterious, and of course everything surrounding him was cloaked in darkness. It’s enticing as much as it serves as a protection. Because people at The Velvet Rooms—and especially his puppets—can’t know that he is Michael Raad Brower, the owner of the company about to potentially ruin a lot of lives by denying them access to a lifesaving drug.

I press my lips into a thin line, tortured by fear and rage as I replay those things in my mind—before I startle at a sound coming from the door.

The lock, to be precise.

Salwa lifts her head next to me, seemingly just as tense as I grow when the door slowly opens. I know it’s silly, but having her sit next to me soothes me immensely, even though I know a cat could never protect me from anything Raad might do to me.

He steps in, looking awfully handsome in a black shirt and dark denim jeans, something I rarely see him wear. His black hair is ruffled a bit and not gelled in place like it usually is—and he looks at me with an expression that confuses me to no end. It’s not the domineering, always-in-control kind of face that I know so well. It’s also not the sinister smile laced with delicious menace when he was about to do something naughty to me.

His expression is soft, neither smiling nor frowning nor anything in between.

I don’t know what to make of it, because I’m not sure what I’m seeing on his face. If I didn’t know any better I would even go as far as to call it repentance.

He’s holding a thick black folder in his left hand when he walks toward me. A content smile pulls at the corner of my mouth when I notice the shade around his left eye that’s been placed there by my fist.

“Let me guess,” I snarl at him, unwilling to allow him to speak first and talk me into the ground. “It’s not what you think it is? Or… I can explain? Or some other lame intro before you reveal an elaborate lie in front of me?”

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