Page 92 of Desperate Games

Remy told me about his job at Sigma. Security. Training. But not this.

“You didn’t know? He’s won several global competitions as well.”

“In what?” I don’t stop myself from asking.

“He’s highly trained in Krav Maga, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, Muay Thai, and Systema, along with basic boxing, wrestling, and Judo. His expertise and experience are going to revolutionize the training at Sigma International. Josef, Adrik, and Marat are all excited to have him onboard. Connor, too.”

I can only stare at him, stunned.

My cinnamon roll of a husband, Remy, is a decorated vet?

Remy.

Who makes me coffee just the way I like it.

Who tucks Callie in with her pink night-light.

Who kisses my stomach when he thinks I’m asleep.

He’s a killer. Deadly. A warrior.

I should’ve known. I should’ve asked. But I didn’t.

My chest tightens. I feel small.

It’s not that I abhor violence. I mean, I probably should. But in this family? It’s sort of par for the course.

And I’m not afraid of him. Remy has only ever been gentle with me.

But I feel like there are entire continents of his life I’ve never even stepped foot on.

“But there is something else, Andrea,” Dad continues, voice calm but edged like a blade, “Sigma’s jet left Greece yesterday after having acquired a few more passengers.”

My breath shakes.

The world tilts a little, and all I can think is—I don’t know where my husband is. I don’t know who he’s with. I don’t know anything.

And maybe the part that hurts most?

I never asked.

My heart stutters. He said passengers.

Passengers. Plural.

“Remy left Greece? Is he coming home early?” Mom asks from her position on the floor with Callie, eyes wide and innocent, but Dad doesn’t look away from me.

“Andrea?” he presses.

I keep my mouth shut. Because the truth is—I don’t know.

I have no idea when my husband is coming back. Not really.

“Andres, where are they now?” Mom asks, and I’m grateful to her because I can’t even form a sentence right now.

“I believe they flew to Paris yesterday. A lunch date. Tomorrow, the jet is scheduled to land in Maui for a party. Atlas Stavros along with his entourage are onboard. The man is known for being a party animal.”

My chest feels so heavy. Mom scoffs, flicking her wrist like it’s all so absurd.