Page 35 of Deception & Desire

“You wanted information. I’m getting you information,” I hiss back as I make my way down the empty corridor. Pausing at a few doors to peer inside.

The first few places I check are entirely empty. Bathrooms, a long lounge that looks over the front driveway, a library of some kind.

It’s not until I’m halfway down the hallway that I begin to hear voices.

“... has already been moved too many times.”

I slow my pace, lingering by a cracked open door to try and listen in.

“I don’t care,” another voice replies. “Move it again.”

“There’s nowhere else, not unless you want to go private.”

“Then go private.”

“It’ll cost you a lot of hush money.”

“Money I have. What I don’t have is a safe landing spot for the shipment. Make the fucking call.”

In my ear, I hear Leon’s sharp intake of breath.“Holy shit.”

I take that as permission to leave, hurrying back toward the staircase before anyone can notice me missing.

Only to run straight into someone at the top of the stairs. “Oh! Excuse me,” I say automatically.

Hands dig into my shoulders as they stand me back up. “The hell are you doing up here?”

I blink up. Red tie. Ivan.

“Get the FUCK out of there.”

“Looking for the bathroom.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. “Have you seen Carmen? I was chatting with this gorgeous blonde guy earlier…hey, doyouknow if he’s single? Tall, dark suit. Fuck-me-eyes?”

He shoves me to one side, clearly unamused by the conversation. “The upper floors are off-limits. Please bear that in mind as you enjoy the rest of the party, Miss McDonald.”

“Call me Red!” I sing back as I make my descent, purposefully stumbling once or twice, trying to cover for the fact my voice is shaking.

10

LEON

The video feed cuts out like it’s fucking amateur night right as Ivan confronts Mia.

It takes everything within me not to punch a hole through my monitor.

“FUCK!” I shout into the empty house.

Vaguely, I’m aware that it had been a smart decision to stay away from the Cartel’s mansion tonight. If anyone discovered me, Mia’s cover would have been blown.

But right now, I’m struggling to see a single merit in this line of thinking. I should be storming the place right now. I should get into my car and drive and drive until I have her in my sights. I need to make sure that she’s okay. Screw everything else.

All I have is a pathetic little pulsing dot on my screen. It’s a tracker, not a heart monitor, but I still watch it as if it indicates a sign of life.

I wonder if I can convince her to wear a heart monitor next time.

My hand instantly begins to pull on my own hair, sharply tugging me back to reality.

Next time?There shouldn’t have been afirsttime.

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