Page 55 of The Perfect Betrayal

Behind him, with a six-inch kitchen knife pressed against his neck, was Monica Silver. This was the first time that Jessie had seen her without any disguise. Her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail. She was wearing a sarong and a loose white shirt over a bikini top.

It was stunning how much she looked like her older sister. No wonder Oliver Stanton had thought he’d seen a ghost. The fact that even hiding her looks, Cisco hadn’t noted the resemblance between the sisters, was an indictment of him. Either he was too oblivious to have made the connection, or he’d never paid enough attention to Heather Silver when he was with her to care.

The woman’s expression was placid, as if nothing about this situation struck her as unusual. Jessie tried to think about how best to begin a conversation that wouldn’t end with Cisco dead. As she wracked her brain, an unexpected epiphany came into it. She didn’t really care if the man lived or died.

This was a person who had used women all his life, often hurting them, and maybe doing more than that. Because of hiswealth and power, he’d never faced any consequences for his actions. Now—finally—someone was holding him to account.

Jessie knew that she was supposed to protect victims, even imperfect ones, but this felt like a stretch. Joel Cisco was a predator. In fact, Jessie wondered what would happen if she was the one holding the knife to his throat right now. Would her desire for bloodlust win out over her sense of duty?

She pictured Hannah in Heather’s position and herself in Monica’s. Could she really say that she would do anything differently? If anything, she suspected she might have already done what Monica intended.

Here was a chance to allow someone else to take their vengeance. Maybe she should just let Monica cut him open and savor the pleasure of watching the man bleed out. She wouldn't be personally responsible for it. She would simply have been "unable" to prevent it. That was totally defensible if she was questioned later.

What did it matter anyway? Monica Silver was already going to prison for three other murders. In the grand scheme of things, what was one more? Would it really be that bad to let her finish off this guy, who was by all measures the most culpable of the yacht bros? Jessie fought back a snicker as a random thought entered her head: the medication she'd taken to curb her urges had definitely worn off.

Apparently she hadn’t hidden the near-chuckle well enough, because Monica’s calm expression changed. She looked confused.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

Nothing,” Jessie said. “I guess I’m just trying to think of a way to talk you down. The problem is—I’m coming up empty.”

“Why would you want to talk me down?” Monica demanded. “You said over the speaker that you knew what he did andwanted justice for Heather. Thisisjustice. Why would you even consider getting in the way of that?”

Jessie realized that her hands had been up the whole time they’d been talking.

“Do you mind if I put these down?” she asked.

“Only if you answer my question,” Monica said.

“It’s a fair question,” Jessie conceded as she rested her arms at her sides. “Give me a second to come up with a good answer.”

She was quiet for a moment as she really pondered it. A big part of her wanted Monica to tear the knife across Cisco’s throat so she could watch his blood spurt everywhere. That part of her was so all-consuming that she wondered if there was space left for anything else. She was tempted to just whisper, “do it” and enjoy the show.

She closed her eyes and exhaled heavily. When she opened them again, she decided she owed it to her professional self, if not to Cisco, to at least try to make a compelling case. She wasn’t sure if even she would find it convincing.

“I can think of one reason,” she said.

“You have to follow the law, even if you don’t agree with it?” Monica offered sarcastically.

Jessie shrugged.

“I guess I should say yes to that, but no,” she replied. “The reason is that if you kill him now, we’ll never know the truth about what happened to Heather.”

That wasn’t entirely true. There were two other men that might be able to solve that mystery. But that detail wouldn’t help her right now, so she didn’t mention it. Instead, she continued.

“I assume that’s why you’ve been methodically cutting into his flesh, to get him to come clean. Or is it just for the fun of it?”

“Can’t it be both?” Monica wanted to know.

“It can,” Jessie conceded. “Has it worked?”

“Not yet,” Monica admitted, “but until you showed up, I planned to take my time.”

"Well, maybe we can still get some answers from Joel in the time we have left," she said before focusing her attention on the bloodied man before her. "What do you say, Joel? Are you ready to be honest?"

The fear in his eyes hadn’t dissipated, but Jessie sensed something more than just fear of more pain in them. She also saw hopelessness. He thought he was going to die, no matter what he said. She needed to change that.

“I have a deal for both of you,” she said, a surge of adrenaline rising in her as the perfection of it became clear to her. There was a way to feed both her bloodlust and her sense of dutyandcome out unsullied on the other side. Well, maybe not unsullied, but mostly unscathed.

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