Page 14 of The Secrets That Kill

Her gasp is soft as her gaze drops to the phone’s screen. “How…?”

“Answer that, and you’ll find out that I just saved your sister. Gave her a future again.”

“What do you mean?” Her narrowed eyes cut to me.

“The Swiss institute that can have your sister walking? I bought it. She has a spot there. On me. She’s flying there now.”

“Blackmail?”

As I said, Ivy’s fucking smart. “Incentive.”

“And if…” She swallows. “I say I won’t help you?”

“There’s no such thing as something for nothing, Pollyanna. If you want your sister to get the help she needs, then you’ll take me up on my offer.”

Ivy starts to pale, and her phone buzzes again. “What do you want? There must be tons of girls who’d do this for a fat paycheck.”

“I don’t want them. I want you.”

“So…” She stops. Pollyanna doesn’t finish the sentence, so I do.

“Your life is mine, in exchange for your sister’s.”

FOUR

ivy

Cold ice dripsdown my spine as Mercer’s words sink into my brain. I clench and unclench my clammy hands. I try desperately to process his threat, but my mind is slow on the uptake. My temples throb as if they’re being squeezed by a vise.

Mercer just sits back in his chair, completely relaxed, his hand on the almost empty glass of a bitterly complex drink that, shockingly, I enjoy. I’m much more of a cosmopolitan kind of girl, but this amber-colored liquid has a certain allure. I think it’s because of the fiery sensation that breathes down my throat each time I take a sip.

A good kind of pain. It jars me, makes me alert and aware.

And in this situation, I need as much of that as I can get.

His gaze is laser-focused on my face. A shudder ripples through me and I shift in my seat. He exudes danger and the forbidden. It throbs beneath that veneer of moneyed gloss and civility.

But on the inside, he’s ugly and devious. That definitely hasn’t changed. I can feel his darkness sweep over me now, just as I did years ago. If anything, it draws me to him evenmore. And I hate myself so much for even giving that thought airtime.

Mercer reclines like he’s in a comfortable armchair. Meanwhile, my body prickles like I’m sitting on pins and needles, faced with a guillotine. I swallow hard, keeping my stare even and strong even though I’m crumbling on the inside.

I can’t explain why I’m still sitting here, how he has me rooted to my chair, my limbs powerless to move. A thread of excitement twists through my veins, and I grit my teeth. I despise this man. He’s my enemy, the man I hate most in the world.

Yet, here I still am. Locked in place by his silent will and heated gaze.

Okay, I need to calm the hell down and think. My mind trips back to what he told me about his mission. It sounds legitimate, details he shared about that club. And of course, I want to protect innocent young women from the dredge of the Earth like this guy Henderson. Helping them is a way for me to atone, and for anyone else, I’d jump at the request.

But him?

Can I really trust him after everything that happened?

Beneath my hand, my phone lights up again.

Our eyes meet.

He sips his drink and nods at the phone. Once.

Dammit, I want to defy him so badly, to tell him where he can shove his orders and threats. But I can’t because I know who’s calling. And I need to answer.

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