Page 67 of Secrets

“What’s the point, Mother? Why even bother when I lost the one thing that brought me any semblance of joy?” I swallow, though my throat is so dry from the dehydration that it burns. “That gave me a reason.”

Her gaze falls for a moment, but when she meets my line of sight again, she grins. “Because she needs you, my love, just as badly as you need her. You both have been through devastating odds and somehow found your way to each other.”

“I hurt her.” An ache so deep in my chest blooms that I can’t even bother fighting the new rounds of tears. I’m so tired. So hungry. Yet, all I want is to seeher. Tell her how sorry I am and that if she were to give me the chance, I would spend each second of my existence making it up to her. Then, I’d follow her to the afterlife and continue to show her how much she means to me.

“You are human, Elena. You are flawed, as we all are.” She strokes my hair, her eyes turning in the corners with the sadness she never allowed herself when she was alive. “Promise me you will live, and you will find her.”

I shake my head, knowing it would be futile, but then my mother brushes away a tear and whispers something that etches into my fractured heart.

“You are worthy of forgiveness. You are worthy of understanding. And you are worthy of love.”

The sound of a heavy door dragging open steals my attention, and when I look back to where my mother was kneeling beside me, she’s gone.

A heaviness I’m becoming accustomed to weighs on my chest as I use all the energy I can muster to sit up and turn to greet my visitor head-on.

In the last however many days I’ve been locked in the cell, I haven’t encountered anyone. Every so often, I wake to find a bottle of water and a small bag of crackers, but never see who drops it off. They must purposely wait until I’m passed out to deliver. Which means they’re hiding their identity for reasons I suspect I’m about to figure out.

A steady clunk of steps echoes in the space as a man approaches my cell. He’s dressed in a navy suit that’s been tailored, a gold clip fastened to his cream tie. His sandy brown hair is tousled to the side in a professional style, while his clean-shaven face hints at a high level position. His cologne is too strong, and when he crouches down, the fumes cause a garbled cough to erupt from my lungs.

His face screws up in disgust. “Tell me, Miss Baudelaire. Why would someone as keen and talented as yourself work for someone like Alexi Babin?”

My jaw clenches. This is it.Him.The man nobody seems to know, but everyone is terrified of. The leader of the cartel. If he’s here, it means one of two things.

“Will you kill me?”

He smirks. “Everyone wants you dead,señorita. The woman who has killed so many of my men. But see, I can envision something greater for you. Something that Babin fool could not even begin to offer.”

I clear my throat, though the act feels as though claws rack down my esophagus. “What’s that?”

The leader shakes his head. “Before I offer anything, I need to know there is a chance you’ll accept it.”

“The facts you’re even considering making a deal means you have no idea how deranged Alexi is.”

His thick brows hitch up. “I don’t follow. What does my offer have to do with him?”

A hoarse laugh echoes from me. “Alexi doesn’t like his toys to be played with. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for me.”

The leader’s head tips back, a hopeful expression lighting up his face. “I hope he does. Until then, I’m afraid your stay is going to get a lot less comfortable.”

Ifeel him before I see him.

The hair at the nape of my neck stands at attention, goosebumps pebble across my arms, and indigestion bubbles in my stomach. My heart thrums in my chest, the unknown danger closing in before I can recognize where it’s coming from.

The steady hum of the office chatter becomes frantic, and dread is tangible. I whirl around in my seat the same moment he comes into view from the hallway.

Alexi fucking Babin, in all his devilish glory, stands a few yards away from my desk.

Tailored black slacks, a white button-up with the top one undone, tattoos peeking from the rolled sleeves. His hair is half up, the messy bun allowing more than a few strands to hang loose. That damn smug grin of his is firmly set in place as his hazel eyes scan the sea of desks, pretending he doesn’t know exactly where I sit.

From head to toe, he is exactly what I remember, only now instead of lust, a deep-seated hatred sears my skin.

I jump to my feet, my hand quick to wrap around the pistol attached to my belt.

His gaze flashes to me, and he smiles, shoving both of his hands into his pockets before rocking on the back of his heels like he couldn’t care less that I’m two seconds away from shooting him. “Well, well, well. Been a long time. How ya’ been, Jenny?”

I sneer at him, too mentally drained to deal with his complexes. “What the fuck are you doing here, Babin?”

His expression is like the cat that caught the canary. “Let’s not pretend you haven’t been looking for me.Stalkingme, actually.”

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