Page 87 of Devil's Azalea

I take the seat across from him regardless. “I have a warning for you.”

“Ah, here to dish out threats, then? Let me save you some time, sweetheart—I’m not going to treat you with kid gloves like Rafael does. I’m not in love with you.”

“Rafael is not in–” I inhale sharply, shaking my head. I’m not here to get into an argument with him about how Rafael feels about me. “I’m not trying to threaten you. My warning is sincere. I–I–” The words stick to the back of my throat.

This is the moment of truth, the point of no return. Once I let these words spill out, there’s no taking them back. No pretending I’m still the good little federal agent following orders without question.

He watches me without a hint of softness, and my insides shrivel with fear.

I caused this animosity between us. If I want it to end, I’ll have to sacrifice something. My job. My loyalty to my mentor. My honor.

“I’ve been ordered to take out the Albanians,” I force out. “The Përmetis, specifically,” I clarify so he understands me fully. His expression doesn’t change. “Someone wants you guys isolated, cut off from all your allies. And for some reason, the Përmetis are their target.”

“Would that someone be the new director of the bureau?” he asks cynically, and I clamp up immediately. I’ve already said more than I should. I’m not going to carry out the order, but that doesn’t mean someone else won’t. So I needed to warn him so they can be prepared.

I get to my feet wordlessly, suddenly needing distance, air, anything but the weight of his stare.

“Is that why you came to see me?” Maximo asks, and when I glance back, his expression has shifted—not soft, exactly, but less stone-cold than when I first walked in.

There’s a crack in his armor. Maybe there’s hope after all.

“I–I’m not going to do it. But I figured I owe you one… for the mess I caused last year. I know it’s not enough, but Iamsorry about that. I would never have hurt Elira.”

His expression turns back to stone, and he gets to his feet with muscles coiled tight with angry tension. “You would never have hurt her? But you fucking rigged the vehicle she was in to explode when she escaped from your clutches, then fucking fired bullets at me and my men with her caught in the crossfire.”

My jaw drops. “What?No, I didn’t.”

That’s not what happened. That’s not what happened at all.

“Don’t fucking stand there and lie to my face, Emily. You’re defenseless here, and Rafael isn’t around to stop me from hurting you.”

Despite the frigid atmosphere in the restaurant and the very real threat in his voice, I risk a step closer to him, my heart pounding as my mind races through that night. “Why would I lie to you now? What would be the point? When Elira escaped, I was impressed with her quick thinking and hotwiring skills, but I didn't chase after her because I got intel from a friend I had watching you that you were almost at that airstrip. I couldn’t risk running into you and facing your wrath. That’s the goddamn truth.”

“Somebody rigged that car to explode just as Elira got out, and shot at us during the chaos,” he says slowly, enunciating each word. “If it wasn’t you, then who the hell was it?”

I stare up at him, my heart hammering in my throat. Did someone set me up—frame me just so the Nightshades would hate me? No way. No fucking way.

“It doesn’t matter who the real culprit was anyway.Youputher in danger in the first place,” Maximo continues caustically, but his coldness can’t penetrate the numbness spreading through my system. I’m already frozen to the bone by the possibility that someone has been manipulating me and the guys, orchestrating conflicts to keep us at each other’s throats.

Twisting everything. My father’s death. So many things.

And the more I think about it, the more it seems that someone might be Stacey. And I fuckinghatethat. Was any decision I’ve made ever fully mine? Did I even want to join the bureau… or did I join because that was the life she offered me? How deep does this manipulation go?

This is the absolute worst place to be having an existential crisis, Em.

Get out. Get out now before you completely fall apart.

Without another word, I spin around and leave the restaurant, quickly jogging to my bike. The snow has stopped, but the temperature has dropped even further. I should be shivering, but I’m too numb to feel much of anything.

My phone buzzes as I straddle my bike, and I absentmindedly fumble for it with hands that are definitely shaking now. Katie’s name flashes on the screen.

Shit, our shopping plans.

I clear my throat and try to sound normal as I answer. “Hey.”

“Hey, are you okay? Your time is up, and I know you hate being late without at least giving people a heads-up, so I’m just checking in.” Her voice carries genuine concern, and some of the ice around my heart starts to thaw.

At least there’s still one person in my life I have a pure, uncomplicated relationship with.