Chapter 3
Back at the villa, I popped two painkillers. The pain in my stomach only eased up a little.
My phone rang. It was Kingston.
"Emily, come over to Nightfall Club. We've got a new shipment in. I need you to inspect them," he said.
Nightfall Club was Kingston's most exclusive spot, and it was where he took care of all his shady deals.
Inspecting the goods was one of the most crucial steps. He was testing me.
He wanted to see if I was still loyal to him after Michael grilled me.
"Okay, I'll be there soon," I replied.
I hung up, and in the mirror, I used concealer to cover my sickly pallor. Then I swiped on some vivid lipstick.
The woman staring back at me was stunning and aloof, with no sign of weakness. This was the perfect tool Kingston wanted.
At Nightfall Club, I headed straight for the VIP suite on the top floor.
When I arrived, Kingston was playing cards with a few of his guys.
On the coffee table sat a black suitcase.
"Kingston," I said as I walked over.
Kingston tossed his cards aside and waved me over.
"There you are, Emily. Hurry up and check out these 'diamonds.' See if they're any good," Kingston said.
He flipped open the suitcase.
There weren't any diamonds inside, only bags of white powder, neatly packed.
It was a new, high-purity drug. Seeing it alone made me feel physically sick.
Michael and I once swore we'd clean up every bit of evil in this city.
Now look at me. I was helping the bad guys do their dirty work.
I picked up a small bag, rolled it between my fingers, and took a sniff, acting like I knew exactly what I was doing.
"The quality's good, better than the last batch," I said. "Kingston, this shipment's gonna fetch a high price."
Kingston grinned, clearly pleased. "I knew you'd spot the good stuff right away," he said with a smirk.
He snapped the suitcase shut and handed it to one of his guys.
"Same as always. Spread it out," he ordered.
The guy grabbed the suitcase and headed out.
It was just me and Kingston left in the suite.
He poured me a glass of red wine. "Michael didn't do anything to you, did he?" Kingston asked.
"He tried to scare me, said he'd throw me in jail," I replied, taking the glass with a casual shrug.
"Jail?" Kingston scoffed. "Does he have the power to pull that off? Relax. As long as I'm around, nobody's gonna touch you."
He tried to pull me close, reaching for my waist. I slipped away, making my way over to the window.
"Kingston, I'm feeling a little worn out. I think I'll head back and rest up," I said.
Just then, my phone buzzed. It was an encrypted message. [Target locked. Ready to move in.]
My heart skipped a beat. It was the cops' signal to make their move.
My heart was racing, and my hand trembled so badly that I could barely hold the wine glass.
Why did they take action so soon?
I glanced at Kingston. He was watching me with a suspicious, knowing look.
Just then, his phone started ringing too.
He answered, listened for a moment, and his face drained of color in an instant.
"Cops are busting the place. Let's go," Kingston barked.
He slammed the phone down and snatched my hand. "Follow me."
He dragged me out of the suite, making a beeline for the club's secret passage.
The sirens were getting closer and closer, blaring louder with every second.
The whole club had erupted into chaos.
Kingston pulled me along, weaving through the frantic crowd.
The pain in my stomach came crashing back, sharper than ever.
My vision went dark. Blood rushed up my throat and sprayed across Kingston's white shirt, bright and horrifying.
He froze, staring at me in utter disbelief. "What..." he murmured.
I couldn't hold on any longer and collapsed, my body going limp.
Before I lost consciousness, I saw Michael rush in with his team.
His eyes cut through the chaos, locking onto me.
There was nothing but pure contempt and disgust in his gaze, as if saying, "Emily, I knew it. You're still mixed up in this filthy business."
I woke up in a hospital bed. Cold handcuffs gripped my wrist, securing me to the bed frame.
Michael sat in a chair beside me, watching me, his face unreadable.
"You're awake?" Michael said. His voice was ice-cold. "Emily, your performance is getting better and better. Coughing up blood? You really think that'll make people pity you and let you off the hook?"
I tried to speak, but my throat was dry. It hurt. "I didn't..." I croaked.
"Didn't?" Michael interrupted, getting to his feet. "Last night's bust was a total success. We caught them red-handed. Kingston's top guys were behind bars, and your fingerprints were on that suitcase full of drugs. What excuse do you have this time?"
I closed my eyes. So that was what really happened.
That encrypted message last night wasn't meant for me. It was actually an internal signal for the police.
They used my phone signal to pinpoint the location of the deal.
And Kingston had me inspect the goods to make sure my fingerprints were all over them.
This was all a setup, a trap laid for me. Michael was the mastermind behind it all. He wasn't after Kingston. He was after me.
"Where's Kingston?" I asked.
"He got away," Michael replied, sounding annoyed. "He made his escape through the club's secret tunnel before we could lock the place down. But don't be pleased. He won't get far. I've put out a nationwide manhunt for him."
I fell silent. Kingston slipped away, and now every single charge would stick to me. Drug trafficking, money laundering... So many felonies stacked up. I'd be rotting in prison for the rest of my life. This was exactly what Michael wanted.
"Michael," I asked and looked him in the eye, "after you were thrown in the sea three years ago, what happened?"
I'd always wanted to ask him this.