Page 86 of Covert Temptation

Her body shook as she pushed herself upright, boots scraping on the floor. Her limbs were numb. Her pride had shattered sometime around the moment the cold metal of the gun followed her every move.

He moved back and flopped on the bucket again. “Go on then. Entertain me.”

She turned away from him as she began to move, hips swaying awkwardly. Her sweater slipped up, revealing bare skin above her waistband, but she couldn’t push it down with her hands bound.

Her eyes stung, not from pain—even though the zip-ties cut into her flesh—but from shame.

She’d worked so damn hard to leave this part of her life behind. For a fleeting time, she had built something worth being proud of. And now her past was being used against her.

Kennedy focused on the sound of her breathing. Inhale, exhale.Don’t think about Dante seeing you like this. Don’t think about the way he made you feel safe and cherished, like maybe you were more than your past.

But he’d seen that photo of her onstage…and he couldn’t handle it. He left her.

Fresh pain lanced through her chest, carving away any hope of him rescuing her.

She moved slowly, rhythmically, nothing sensual in the dance now. It was pure survival. The man watched with that same bored expression, arms crossed, gun resting lazily on his knee.

The tears came anyway.

He didn’t deserve them, but they came, streaking silently down her cheeks.

“You’re distracting me with your crying,” he said, almost disappointed.

She spun on him. “Of course I’m crying! Do you think this is a fucking performance for me? This is mylife—the past I was trying to erase so I could have a better life!”

He didn’t flinch, just shrugged again. “That’s not my problem.”

She collapsed to her knees, her zip-tied hands painfully striking the floor to keep from falling on her face. Her shoulders trembled. After a long moment, she gave him a direct stare. “Just tell me something.”

He tilted his head.

“Is this it? Is this where I die?”

He stared for a long time, shaking out another cigarette. “Probably. That guy’s thorough.”

She let her head drop.

It wasn’t just that she was about to die. It washowshe was going to die—alone, filled with grief and guilt that shehadbeen responsible for the security leak after all.

The weight of that shredded her heart.

She thought of Dante, how lately he’d started to look at her differently, and how they had shared more than just physical pleasure.

She’d found someone—finally—who saw her for more than what she used to be. And now he’d go back to thinking he couldn’t trust anyone. Like everyone else in his life, she’d let him down.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t even know who she was talking to anymore.

The man stood again. “Don’t wear yourself out. I want one more dance before the boss arrives.”

Her heart plummeted.

But in her boot, the AirTag pressed against her heel.

Maybe Dantewouldcheck.

Maybe he’d find her.

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