Page 19 of Vicious Hearts

“What’s your connection with Mercy General?”

I stiffen. Visibly. And even though I’ve tried to appear neutral, he doesn’t miss the change in my demeanor, no matter how small. And suddenly he’s sitting up, his inquisitiveness getting the better of him.

“Why?”

“Answer the question, Ariadne.”

“No connection,” I lie. Well, technically not a lie. There’s no longer a connection.

“Then why were you there three weeks ago?”

I can feel myself getting lightheaded as his words move around in my head, like a revolving door on repeat. Why the hell is he asking, and how the hell would he know this? I hadn’t even published my article then; hadn’t even been given the brief. Caleph stepped into my life the minute my article was published, and I put a marker on my back. So why was he asking about something that had no direct tie to him?

“Have you been following me?” I ask.

He gives a short, curt shake of his head, his eyes never leaving me. He doesn’t want to miss a minute of watching me in case he misses the reaction he’s obviously looking for.

“Then what? Why are you asking about something that has nothing to do with you?”

I don’t want to relive that moment. Can’t relive it. I can’t go back to the worst day of my life and live through that again.

“So, you were there.”

I feel like I’m on the stand and the prosecutor has just found his ‘aha’ moment, ensnaring me in my own confession.

“I can’t believe this is happening!” I scream, standing quickly.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

He stands with me, mirroring my movements as we face off in a showdown.

“I don’t want to talk about this,” I stutter, feeling the tears as they rise to the surface.

His left eye twitches, before it winks at me, and I notice this is an involuntary tic that he probably doesn’t even notice. He’s affected by my reaction, and that tells me this man is not as heartless as he appears to be.

16

CALEPH

She’s hiding something from me. That’s the one thing I know for sure, beyond all doubt. I’m on my phone to Seven before I can take a breath, asking him to dig deeper. I can gloss over the basics with her until he comes back to me and gives me the information I need before deep diving into the serious stuff.

When I go back to the lounge room where I left her, she’s standing with her arms folded across her chest, looking out one of the windows at the sea. There’s something small and frail and sad about the way she stands clutching her arms tensely, her nails pushing into her skin.

“Where were we?” I ask her, as I walk into the room in quick strides.

“You were just about to tell me how you came into so much money.”

She whirls around, her blazing eyes full of hatred as she looks at me. I’ve touched on a very crucial nerve, something that’s made her super angry, and now she is back in business mode. She’s going in for the kill. Nothing else will erase whatever pain she’s going through, so she’s going to make being here worth her while.

I understand that anything I tell her could potentially be used against me, especially if she’s been sent to spy on me, so I pick and choose my words very, very carefully before I start.

“I came into some money when I turned eighteen,” I start. “Not much, but enough.”

I watch as her delicate hand moves gracefully across the page, taking notes.

“I had an idea that I wanted to bring to life.”

She fixes me with a scathing look; I’m being vague again and she’s tiring of me talking in tongues. I have to give her something.

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