Page 29 of Lethal Deceit (Hightower Security #2)

I lock the bathroom door behind me, grateful for the excuse to get out from under Adena’s stare.

The butter knife is still where I left it—tucked behind the sink pipe, untouched. Dry. Waiting.

I raise my eyes to the mirror. Bad move.

The woman staring back looks like she hasn’t slept in weeks. Hair wild, face pale, dark circles doing all the talking. The clothes hang loose—like I borrowed someone else’s life and it doesn’t fit right.

No makeup. No armor.

Just me.

I look... unfinished.

My chest tightens, and I glance down, focusing on the edge of the vanity.

Pretty girls get what they want. Ugly ones get sent back.

Mona’s voice slips through the cracks of my memory like smoke. I was too young to know better, too desperate to question her logic.

Your worth is in your beauty. Lose that, and you’re nothing.

I press my fingers into the counter to ground myself, but the words won’t shake loose. They cling like cheap perfume—sweet, poisonous, and impossible to forget.

She trained me to wear beauty like a weapon. Smile when it hurts. Pout when it’s useful. Never, ever let them see your real face.

But here it is. Unpainted. Exposed. The face that Mick chose to kiss.

And that’s not all that’s different. The voice that usually runs its mouth when I’m like this—that mean, familiar whisper that tells me I’m worthless, that I’ll ruin everything—it’s not shouting tonight.

It’s quiet.

Weirdly quiet.

Maybe she drowned in the marina instead of me?

Voices float through the cracked bathroom window. Male. Low. Serious.

“…a con artist. A highly skilled one. She fooled you once.”

Luke.

“And she won’t fool me again. I know when I’m being lied to.”

Mick.

I go still, my spine stiffening.

“Yeah. No. You don’t,”

Luke shoots back.

“She’s good, and your judgment is clouded. You’re falling for her.”

A pause. Then Mick.

“Give me a break.”

“I’m not judging you. It happens. I fell for my fiancée on an op.”

Long silence. Too long.

“I have better judgment than to fall for her act again.”

Again.

The word slices deep.

Luke presses harder.

“So you’re immune to her backstory? Because I shared it with you for a reason. This mission isn’t just about your guilt.”

I grip the sink. My hands tremble.

“If Caleb hadn’t walked in when he did,”

Luke says, voice low and cold.

“she’d have taken your gun and the key. We’d be chasing her—and hoping she didn’t drag you down too.”

“It wasn’t ever going to go that far,”

Mick says, but his voice doesn’t sound certain.

“Really?”

Luke’s laugh is hollow.

“You think you’ve got that much control?”

“I’m not going to make the same mistake twice.”

Luke doesn’t reply. He doesn’t need to.

Then, finally, the one I’m not ready for.

“Because you aren’t falling for her?”

Luke asks.

My breath hitches. I hold it.

“Absolutely not,”

Mick says.

No hesitation. No kindness.

Just the truth.

Something tightens in my chest—then cracks. I let go of the sink and steady myself. The sharp edge of rejection slices through whatever fragile hope I was holding.

A knock rattles the door. Adena’s voice, flat and irritated.

“Time’s up.”

Yeah. It is.

Whatever I thought was happening here—I was wrong.

He doesn’t see me. Not really.

Fine.

He’ll get what he wants. I’ll smile. I’ll behave.

But the second it’s dark?

I’m gone.