Page 57 of His Black Onyx

I blush, taking a step away from the bed, as if she just lashed out against me. "What did you say?"

"I see the way he looks at you," Lailah continues. "He used to look at me like that, back then, when he was still… training me. I didn't let us go down that road, though. I was smarter than that. And you should be, too."

She throws me a warning look, her eyes narrowing as she pierces me in place. "He is not who he seems to be."

My heart is speeding, fueled by a toxic blend of terror and curious excitement.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't let your heart be fooled by him," Lailah replies. "He's watching out for you, and I'm sure he'd rather kill the other guys before he'd let either one of them touch you—but don't be fooled."

I'm shaking my head, my entire body trembling as I try to make sense of what she is saying to me.

"What do you mean, Lailah?" I question. "Please, explain it to me! You're just like him right now, intimidating and vague!"

She laughs lightly, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, as if I'd just paid her a compliment.

"He's not telling you everything about the mission you're being trained for because he wants to protect you," she explains. "And because he doesn't want you to know the truth about it. The real reason, why we're doing this."

Her gaze is intense and edged with secrecy when she looks at me now.

"Yes, he did," I insist. "He said it was about the Scivola family, about killing them."

Lailah raises an eyebrow, a hint of compassion lacing her expression. "Yes, but did he ever tell you the reason why? Did he ever tell you what's in it for him?"

I squint in confusion, trying to understand where she's going with this.

"He didn't, did he?" she guesses, gasping for air as her weakened body starts betraying her again, taking away the strength she's so unwilling to give up.

"I... I'm not sure," I stammer.

Lailah closes her eyes for a moment, breathing heavily as another wave of painful torment rushes through her body.

"Do you need something?" I ask, stepping closer to the bed again. "Should I call for someone?"

She shakes her head as much as she can, opening her eyes to fixate on me with an intense stare.

"No, no, don’t," she finally produces under heavy breaths. "I need to tell you this first. I need to tell you."

She continues gasping for air, managing a deep and desperate inhale, finally filling her lungs enough to stabilize her at least a little.

"And you," she adds, a gloomy expression painted across her bloodless cheeks. "You need to fucking listen to me, if you want to get out of this alive."