Page 19 of Betray Me
Maybe it’s time to trust someone else with my darkest secrets.
The thought terrifies me. But as I sit surrounded by evidence of crimes I can’t remember committing, I realize that terror might be the only honest emotion I have left.
PART TWO: THE UNRAVELING
Chapter 7: The Assignment
Before
The ferry cuts through gray waters toward Shark Bay, and I stand at the rail watching the Gothic spires of the university emerge from the morning mist like something from a nightmare. Salt spray stings my face, but I don’t move. I need to feel something real before I disappear into the performance that will become my life.
Three months have passed since my “career change” from entertainment to intelligence gathering. Three months of intensive training with the Queen’s PI and enforcer, Dominic—learning to read micro-expressions, memorize conversations verbatim, slip drugs into drinks without detection. Three months of my father reminding me that this role is my salvation, my protection from returning to the velvet couches and grasping hands.
“Nervous?” Dominic appears beside me, his cologne mixing unpleasantly with the ocean air. Even at thirty-five years old, he carries himself with the predatory grace of someone who’s never known consequences for his actions. Father calls him my supervisor, but I know what he really is: my keeper.
“Excited,” I lie smoothly, the words tasting like ash. “Ready to prove myself useful.”
He smiles, and I suppress a shiver. “Good. Remember, Belle—you’re not their daughter anymore. You’re our eyes andears. Every friendship you make, every secret you gather, every weakness you discover—it all serves the family.”
The ferry docks with a shudder that vibrates through my bones. Students emerge from cars driven by uniformed chauffeurs, their laughter bright and careless. They don’t know they’re walking into a spider’s web. They don’t know one of the spiders is seventeen years old with blonde hair and blue eyes who’s learned to smile while her soul withers.
***
My suite in Pemberton Hall is pristine—all cream silk and mahogany furniture that screams old money privilege. My roommate hasn’t arrived yet, giving me time to carefully unpack the tools of my new trade. Listening devices disguised as jewelry. A camera hidden in my compact mirror. And at the bottom of my cosmetics case, the small vial Dominic pressed into my palm before I left home.
“Rohypnol?” I’d asked, recognizing the clear liquid from my father’s “business” gatherings.
“Something stronger. Custom blend—causes temporary amnesia without the typical grogginess. Use it only if someone gets too close to the truth.” His hand had closed over mine, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise. “And Belle? If you have to use it, call me immediately. Some secrets require permanent solutions.”
Now I hide the vial behind my expensive perfumes, my hands trembling slightly. The weight of what I’m expected to do—what I might have to do—settles on my shoulders like a lead blanket.
A soft knock interrupts my dark thoughts. “Belle? Hi, I’m Jessica Yarros—your roommate!”
I take a breath, center myself, and open the door wearing my most charming smile. Jessica is everything I expected from her file—a petite brunette with intelligent hazel eyes and the kind of effortless beauty that comes from good genes and better cosmetics. Her family owns a media empire with international reach, making her both a potential asset and a threat.
“Jessica! I’m so excited to meet you.” I pull her into a hug that’s calculated to seem genuine. “I was hoping we’d get along.”
“Oh, I think we will,” she says, returning the embrace with what feels like real warmth. “I heard you’re from the Gallagher family? My parents know yours—they speak so highly of you.”
Of course they do. The Yarroses have been peripheral players in Father’s network for years, useful for their media connections but not trusted with the darker operations. Jessica probably doesn’t know the full extent of her family’s involvement, making her perfect for my purposes.
“Your parents are lovely,” I lie smoothly. “Though I hope we can be friends beyond our families’ connection. It gets exhausting being ‘Richard Gallagher’s daughter’ all the time.”
Jessica’s eyes soften with understanding. “I completely get that. Sometimes I feel like I’m just an extension of Yarros Media rather than my own person.”
Perfect. I’ve found her vulnerability—the desire to be seen as more than her family name. I file the information away for future use while maintaining my expression of sympathetic understanding.
***
Within a week, I’ve established myself as the charming, slightly mysterious new girl who everyone wants to befriend. Jessica introduces me to her circle—wealthy heirs and heiresses from families across the political and business spectrum. Each interaction is calculated, every smile a weapon in disguise.
Nicolas Parker approaches me during our first Molecular Biology lecture, his golden hair falling across his forehead in a way that would be appealing if I were capable of genuine attraction anymore. His file indicated he’s the heir to a French pharmaceutical fortune with suspected ties to illegal drug manufacturing—exactly the kind of “troubled heir” Father wants me to cultivate.
“Belle, right?” He slides into the seat beside me with easy confidence. “I’m Nicolas. Mind if I sit? Professor Schmidt has a reputation for cold-calling, and you look like someone who actually does the readings.”
I let myself blush slightly, as if flattered by his attention. “I do try to stay on top of the coursework. Are you struggling with the material?”
“Struggling? No. Bored out of my mind? Absolutely.” He leans closer, and I catch his scent—expensive cologne masking something medicinal that makes my skin crawl. “This basic chemistry is child’s play when your family owns half the pharmaceutical patents in Europe.”
