“Tell me what’s going on,” she finally says. “And don’t lie to me,Em. If it was just time off, you would’ve said something days ago.”
She’s right. I tell her everything. Or I used to.
I force a dry laugh. “It’s nothing, really. Gerardo just thought I needed a break. Said I was being too reckless lately. Nate’s case has been eating at me.” I flash her a small smile. “Not that we can talk about it, since you’re technically the enemy.”
She doesn’t even crack a smirk.
“Don’t do that.” She finally sits. “Don’t deflect. We may not be able to talk about the case, but I’m still your friend. And I know you, Em. You wouldn’t be okay with the time off. Not unless you were doing something with it. Something risky.”
Her eyes bore into me, seeing too much. I hesitate as I lower to the loveseat opposite from her. Lying won’t work. Not with her. She’ll dig until she finds the truth.
Fiona isn’t just a prosecutor. She’s a bloodhound when something smells wrong.
“I’m undercover… Sort of…”
Her eyes flare. “What the hell doesthatmean?”
I lift a shoulder. “It’s not officially sanctioned.”
She leans forward. “So that means what, exactly?”
“It means I’m doing what no one else will. I’m getting close to someone I think can clear Nate’s name. Someone who may be tied to the murder.”
Fiona goes still, ice in her eyes. “Who?”
I hold her gaze. “You know who. Konstantin Marinov.”
Silence detonates between us, heavy and crushing.
Her mouth parts, then clamps shut again. “You’re joking.”
I don’t say anything. I just hold her gaze.
“You’re pulling one on me because of how pissed I’ve been about losing Aleksei’s trial, right?” She laughs, but it’s hollow. “No, but seriously, what are you doing?”
“I told you the truth. Konstantin’s most likely involved in whathappened to Nate. And I’m going to prove it.”
She shoots to her feet like she’s been slapped, pacing in front of the couch, her heels snapping against the hardwood.
“Are you insane?” She pushes her hair behind her shoulder. “Emilia, please. Don’t do this. Find another way. Anything but that!”
“If there was another way, do you honestly think I wouldn’t have taken it by now?” I say sharply, cutting through her panic. “If you’ve got something better, Fiona, by all means, let’s hear it.”
Her mouth opens, then shuts again. She runs a hand down her face before collapsing back onto the couch like her body suddenly can’t hold her up. Because she knows. There isn’t another way.
Getting up, I sit beside her, my fingers curling gently around hers. “I know what I’m doing.”
“No, you don’t,” she whispers, and it hits harder than a scream. “If you did, you wouldn’t be using yourself as bait in a fucking shark tank. These aren’t just criminals, Em. They’re brutal. They don’t feel the way we do. They’ll gut you without blinking.”
“I’m doing what needs to be done.” The words slip out quieter. “You know that better than anyone. You fight like hell to put away the guilty and protect the innocent. That’s all I’m doing. I’m trying to save my brother.”
Her stare turns intense, a war behind her eyes. Pain. Fury. Something helpless and hollow.
Finally, she exhales and leans back. “You’re not going to stop no matter what I say, are you?”
A small smile tugs at my mouth. “Of course not. And FYI, I’m Tessa now.”
She glares. “God, Tessa, you’re just as stubborn as Emilia.”