Chapter 2
The investigation unit had just left.
I headed upstairs, expressionless, and opened the bedroom door. It was even worse.
Clothes from the closet were scattered all over the floor, the mattress had been slit open, and even the paintings on the walls had been taken down.
They'd searched thoroughly.
I walked over to the wall, looking at the bare spot where the painting used to hang.
A wave of relief washed over me. At least they didn't find the most important thing.
Meanwhile, at the Criminal Investigation Unit, Michael furrowed his brow as he reviewed the search report handed to him by his subordinate.
"You found nothing at all?" Michael asked.
"Yes, Captain," Tommy Lewis said. "We searched every inch of Emily's villa, flipped the place inside out, but didn't find any suspicious ledgers, cash, or computer files.
"Her bank statements were checked out too. Every transaction was legit, mostly dividends from Kingston's company and some personal investment returns. It's almost suspiciously clean."
Michael slammed his fist on the desk. "No way. She's been the girlfriend of a crime boss for three years, and there's not a single trace left behind? She must've hidden it somewhere else."
"Captain," Tommy hesitated for a moment before saying, "we did find something else in her bedroom."
"What?" Michael demanded.
"The whole cabinet was stuffed with cancer meds," Tommy said. "And there were a ton of hospital bills, all paid out of pocket, and the amounts were massive."
Michael froze for a moment.
He said, "Cancer meds? The woman who'd sell out anyone for cash has cancer? No way. This must be another one of her schemes.
"Investigate. I want to know if those meds are fake and which hospital those bills were from. I need to know what trick she's really pulling."
His gaze grew icy once more. He didn't trust Emily. Not for a second.
*****
Three years ago, at a deserted dock, the air reeked of salt and gunpowder. Gunshots were still ringing in my ears.
I gripped a still-hot gun, the muzzle aimed at Michael, who was lying wounded on the ground.
Blood gushed from his right leg, soaking the concrete beneath him.
He looked up at me, his gaze filled with shock, confusion, and pain.
But in the end, all those emotions settled into a cold, dead silence.
The light that once illuminated my entire world had been extinguished.
Kingston strode over with his crew and stomped down on Michael's hand.
"Shit, a cop?" Kingston growled. He spat on the ground and pressed his gun to Michael's head. "No wonder I couldn't dig up anything on you. You're an undercover rat the cops planted."
Michael glared at me, silent and furious.
Kingston patted my face with the barrel of his gun.
"Nice work, Emily," he said. "If you hadn't tipped me off about tonight's shipment, we'd all be screwed."
I lowered my gaze and dared not to meet Michael's eyes.
Half an hour ago, I'd gotten the last message from my handler. It was just one word: [Kill.]
I knew this wasn't an order to kill Michael.
It was a warning: our operation had been exposed, and if I wanted to keep him alive, I had to erase my identity as a snitch.
Kingston was paranoid. If he found out both Michael and I were cops, neither of us would make it out alive.
The only option was to become one of his people completely, a ruthless woman who'd betray her own boyfriend to survive.
"Kingston, what do we do with him?" one of his guys asked.
Kingston glanced at me and then at Michael lying on the ground, and let out a cold laugh.
"Killing him would be too easy," he said. "Toss him in the sea. Whether he makes it or not, that's his own luck. As for who he really is, we'll act like this never happened. We don't know shit."
He didn't want to make a scene and bring the cops down on them.
Once Michael was gone, there'd be no witnesses, no evidence.
Kingston's men stepped forward and dragged the badly wounded Michael to the water's edge.
The entire time, his eyes never left me. His gaze was like a poisoned dagger, piercing right through my heart.
I watched them toss him into the freezing sea, watched him fight to stay afloat, until he finally vanished into the darkness. My heart drowned along with him.
The mission was accomplished, but I might have lost Michael for good.
Kingston wrapped his arm around my shoulders and took the gun out of my hand.
"Relax, Emily," he said. "From now on, you're mine. Anyone who tries to mess with you, I'll have them sleeping with the fishes."
I pressed against him, still shaking from the aftermath. No one knew how much my hand was trembling when I fired that shot.
The bullet skimmed his leg bone, enough to incapacitate him, but without causing permanent damage.
That was something I'd learned at the police academy.
I was betting he'd make it out alive, betting he was tough enough to hold out until the police arrived. I won that bet.
But in the end, I lost completely. I lost his trust, his love, and all we ever had.
From that day on, the real Emily was gone. All that remained was Kingston's caged lover.