Page 11 of Brutal Empire

“Remember those faces,” Daphne spoke. “You will go to where they are and pretend as if you have never seen them before.”

Gideon coughed, and it made me jump.

Something about the way he was smirking rubbed me the wrong way. It was as if he knew something I didn’t.

I swallowed before speaking.

“Where would I be going? How will I get there?”

I’d traveled before but never alone. I knew Daphne had the means to get anywhere in the world, and money was not an issue, yet she had never given me any of the paperwork she used for me to travel.

Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t sure if she was trying to keep me safe or contained.

Daphne sighed, then bent down, pulled out a black duffel, and threw it on the table. The loud clank echoed in the small kitchen. Whatever was inside of it was heavy. I could feel their eyes boring into me as I pulled open the zipper.

The bag had money. This was unlike the vertical and colorful Swiss currency that was familiar to me. This one was also colorful, but the colors were dimmer, and it was horizontal. The texture seemed to be about the same. Then my eyes went to the other currency there—this one was green, and my fingers immediately itched to touch it. The stack I grabbed had all hundreds.

“I never imagined holding this much money,” I mumbled.

Daphne nor Gideon said a thing, and I was grateful for it. Like I said, the memories were there, but for some reason, they refused to come full surface, and something was keeping them caged—and that someone was me.

Putting the money back, I went to the next stack of items in the bag. Three passports were in it. The first was the red one I had used before. The second was dark green with a coat of arms in the middle. And the third was blue.

Curiosity got the best of me, and I opened them. The pictures on each were slightly different, but I had taken them all on the same day.

“My name was Bailey,” I said without looking at them, but I felt the shift in the room. This was something big, but unfortunately, remembering your name didn’t mean you remembered who you were.

“Is that what you want us to call you?” Daphne asked after a second.

I put the passports back in the duffel and closed it.

“Cam is fine,” I replied. It wasn’t my name, but it was familiar to me.

“Do you feel any guilt for taking that man’s life?”Daphne’s question was still as fresh as it had been two years ago. I never thought killing someone would be so easy.

“Guys like him don’t deserve to live.”

My answer had been brazenly filled with arrogance.

“You did well. You went in and out without being noticed. You acclimated to the situation accordingly. You were like a chameleon adapting to her surroundings.”

Chameleon—I liked it. It made me feel powerful. It had nothing to do with the weak girl who was drugged, gagged, and bound to the basement of a house.

Bailey was weak.

Chameleon was not.

Are you sure?

Taking hold of the strap on the duffel, I stood.

“Tell me what I need to do, and where do I go? I’m ready.”

I listened carefully, and I nodded even though my knees were shaky with fear. I could stay embraced in her shadow, or I could go out on my own and learn what the wordfreedommeant.

FIVE

Two weekslater

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