Page 61 of Dirty Little Secrets
I ring my fingers for a moment like I used to when I was little. Like I can somehow make myself feel better for what I’m about to do.
I sniff, swiping under my eyes before anything falls. Thinking of what Kristina might think of me if she ever found out. What Xaiden would do. But there is no time for weakness.
The faster I do this, the faster I disappear.
I give Brent what he wants. The file, the program, the manifest logs, and I’m free. No more threats. No more midnight meetings in dirty alleys. No more Tammy begging me to get her out because I could help them. Girls who have no help.
I can vanish.
Start over.
Be someone new.
Someone Brent can’t hurt. Someone a man can’t ignore and discard.
A sharp beep from the computer tells I’ve cracked another layer. My heart stutters. I’m getting closer.
I rub my wrist, remembering the last time Brent grabbed me hard enough to leave bruises. I remember how he laughed afterward, like it was funny. Like hurting me was some kind of punchline.
Xaiden might not want me.
But Brent wants to own me.
And I can’t survive either of them.
So I do what I’ve always done.
I lie.
I survive.
And I pull the last set of files to the jump drive with a silent promise to myself: this is the last time. I willnotbe their puppet anymore. Not Xaiden’s. Not Brent’s. Not any anyone’s, even if it kills me.
31
XAIDEN
The call comes in at 3:04 a.m.
One word—”shipment”—and I’m already moving. The second word—”missing”—has me tossing clothes into the spare suitcase I keep in the office and call Tomasz Górski. By the time the bastard on the other end mentionswhich one,my jaw is locked, my pulse steady, and my plane is on standby to head to Chicago. Tonight. I hate the Polish mob but they pay.
I call Bash when he has Nori safe in the care on the way here. It’s almost nine and the pilot is waiting for us to arrive for takeoff.
When I hang up, I don’t look at Nori right away. I can feel her eyes on me, though, uncertain, and tense. She’s standing by the windows of my office in a knee length dress accentuating her curves, the skyline reflected in the glass behind her like a painting of a life I can’t have.
“You’re coming with me,” I say, reaching for my coat.
“To Chicago?” Her voice is a shade above a whisper.
I’m texting Bash to make sure he picks up enough weapons to take out an rmy when I get there. This could be civil or go South but she is my priority to keep safe but I can’t just show upwith guns blazing and expect nothing to happen. This has to go the same way it began, a business dinner that ends in a mutual agreement.
When the elevator opens directly on the top floor, the penthouse reeks of cigar smoke and old power. Floor-to-ceiling windows look out over the veins of lights in downtown Chicago, but no one’s here for the view.
Every man in the room is wired tight, buzzing with quiet fury and ego. Suits tailored like armor. Watches that could buy a car. Smiles that don’t reach their eyes.
Tomasz Górski leans back in a leather chair like he owns the city. His cuffs are gold. So are his bottom teeth. He’s the kind of man who inherited violence and mistook it for legacy.
He looks at Nori first. A slow, deliberate rake of his eyes down her frame, like he’s scanning a product. The small slit in her dress reveals just enough leg to tempt. It’s not her fault because I like her this way. I wanted her beautiful everywhere she went. Poised. Controlled. Untouchable.
