Page 11

Camille

When I wake, the first thing I notice is the cold space beside me. Diego is gone.

I lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to shake the remnants of sleep. The memory of last night lingers. That had been some good sex, all four rounds of it. My chest tightens at the thought, but I push it aside. Before, it all meant nothing. But this time, I felt a twinge of something hit my chest.

I sit up, pulling the blanket around me, and listen for any sign of him. The faint rustle of paper draws me toward the living room. I pause in the doorway, taking in the scene before me.

Diego is seated on the couch, a lamp casting warm light over him. His broad shoulders are tense, his head bent as he pores over a mess of papers spread across the coffee table. Even from here, I can see étienne’s name scrawled on some of the documents.

He hasn’t noticed me yet, so I linger for a moment, watching him. The hard line of his jaw, the way his fingers grip the edges of the papers like he’s holding onto answers he hasn’t yet found—it makes something inside me ache. I remember those fingers that dug into my soft pussy last night and…

I shake my head, trying to focus.

“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask, my voice soft.

He glances up sharply, his dark eyes meeting mine. For a moment, there’s something raw in his expression, but it’s gone almost as quickly as it appeared. “You should still be in bed.”

I step into the room, tightening the blanket around me. “So should you. What’s all this?”

He exhales, sitting back against the couch and gesturing to the papers. “étienne left loose ends and little clues jotted everywhere. I’m trying to figure out where he hid what he collected on the cartel.”

“You think someone else is looking for it?”

“I don’t think so. I know,” he says, his voice clipped. There is also something else in his voice. But tonight, I won’t press him further than I already have.

I sit down on the armrest of the couch, my knees brushing against him as I glance at the papers. “Why do you think he was doing all of this?”

It is a question that I have been asking myself since I found out how deep he truly was in all of this.

I watch his muscles visibly stiffen before he speaks again. “If I am being honest with you, I don’t know why he would do all of this. For him to go through all the trouble of infiltrating the cartel and then making friends of them only to stab them in the back? It doesn’t make much sense to me.”

The only thing I can think of that would drive a man to such measures is revenge. But I keep that comment to myself.

Stillness falls over us again as he continues to comb through all the papers and I sit beside him wordlessly. So much happened last night and there are some things I want to say but I hold my tongue.

“You should go back to bed,” he mutters, his voice almost gentle. “I’ll figure this out.”

But I don’t move. I sit there, staring at the mess on the table, feeling like my brother’s ghost is somewhere in the room, watching us both. I got distracted in the sweet abyss that is Diego. But now I need to refocus and recenter myself.

Diego continues to sift through the papers, his movements methodical but tense. My mind spins. étienne’s secrets feel closer now, tangible, and yet still just out of reach.

“We should go back to his place,” Diego says suddenly, breaking the stillness. His eyes flick between the papers.

I glance up at him, startled. “What? Why?”

“We might’ve missed something,” he says, his voice steady but firm. “If he was hiding information, it would’ve been somewhere he trusted—like his apartment.”

I hesitate, chewing on the inside of my cheek. The thought of going back to étienne’s apartment feels heavy, like reopening a wound that hasn’t even begun to heal. But Diego’s tone leaves no room for argument. And I should look again.

“Do you really think we’ll find something?” I ask, trying to mask the unease in my voice.

Diego leans back, his sharp eyes meeting mine. “If we don’t, someone else will. And we can’t afford to leave anything behind.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Diego gathers the papers from the table, stuffing them into a folder with swift precision. He moves like a man on a mission, every motion deliberate. I get up and grab a jacket, the knot in my stomach tightening with every step. We walk out of the cabin with only one thought in mind.

I have searched that place high and low. I am not sure if we will even find anything, but there is no harm in trying.

The woods around us are eerily quiet as we step out of the cabin. The cool night air brushes against my skin, and I pull my jacket tighter around me. Diego walks a few steps ahead, his posture rigid, his eyes scanning our surroundings with practiced precision. The uneasy quiet settles over me, and I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched.

We’re halfway to the truck when the first shot rings out.

It’s so sudden, so jarring, that for a split second, I don’t register what’s happening. But then I see Diego’s body move with lightning speed, shoving me behind a tree as another shot shatters the air.

“Stay down!” he growls.

I hit the ground, my heart pounding so loudly it drowns out everything else. My breath comes in ragged gasps as I press myself against the ground.

Diego pulls a gun from his waistband, his movements quick and calculated. He peeks over the hood, scanning the shadows for our attackers.

“Who’s shooting at us?” I whisper, my voice trembling.

Diego doesn’t answer immediately. Another shot ricochets off something, and he ducks back down. “It doesn’t matter right now, we just need to stay alive right now.”

The weight of his words sinks in fast, and panic claws at my chest. “What do we do?”

“Stay put,” he says firmly. “Don’t move unless I tell you to.”

He rises slightly, just enough to fire two shots into the shadows ahead. The loud cracks make me flinch, my hands flying to my ears. I hear a muffled curse in the distance, followed by the sound of footsteps retreating.

Diego crouches back down beside me, his breathing steady despite the chaos. His eyes flicker to mine briefly, and I see something there—concern, anger, determination all rolled into one.

“We need to move,” he says. “Now.”

I nod, my body trembling as I try to push myself up. Diego grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet, and we bolt toward his car. Another shot rings out, narrowly missing us as we dive inside.

Diego slams the door and starts the engine, and we speed away from the scene.

I grip the edge of my seat, my chest heaving as I glance out the window. The darkness beyond blurs past us, and I try to calm the storm raging inside me.

“Are you okay?” Diego asks, his voice rough but laced with genuine concern.

I nod, though my hands are still shaking. “I think so. Who the hell were they?”

“Doesn’t matter right now,” he says, his jaw tight. “What matters is getting to your brother’s apartment. Then we are going to have to move. We’ve been made there, so we need to get somewhere new.”

I agree with him. There needs to be a change of location. I have many more questions but I keep my mouth shut.

I turn my gaze back to the window, the fear and adrenaline suffocating.

As we drive into the city, one thing becomes painfully clear: Whoever those people were, they won’t stop until they get what they’re after.

I don’t know how long we drive, but we eventually arrive. We get out of the truck silently, the heaviness of what happened still lingering on our minds. We walk until we get to the door and I pull out the key and unlock the door.

I step inside, and the same sadness I always feel when I’m here finds me.

I’ve been here before, but tonight it feels different—darker, heavier, like the shadows are holding their breath, waiting for something to happen.

Diego moves through the apartment with sharp focus, checking every corner, every drawer. I trail behind him, quieter, my chest tight with unease.

“Check his bedroom,” Diego says, not looking up from the stack of papers he’s rifling through. “See if there’s anything he might’ve hidden in there.”

I nod, heading toward étienne’s room. The door creaks as I push it open, and I step inside, my stomach churning. The bed is still made, the same gray comforter neatly spread across it. Everything is exactly as he left it, frozen in time.

I walk to the desk, running my fingers over the worn wood. It feels like an intrusion, but I force myself to open the drawers, one by one. Papers, receipts, and a half-empty pack of gum greet me, but nothing that stands out.

Frustration builds as I sift through his things. It feels like chasing a ghost.

Sinking onto the edge of the bed, I pull my necklace out from under my shirt. The heart-shaped locket feels cool against my fingers, and I roll it between my thumb and forefinger absentmindedly. It has become somewhat of a comfort piece for me.

As I fiddle with the locket, my nail catches on a tiny groove I’ve never noticed before. Frowning, I press on it, and to my surprise, the locket pops open with a soft click.

Inside, nestled within the hollow space, is a flash drive. In an instant, I know. This is it. This is where he hid it.

My breath catches as I stare at it, the realization hitting me like a freight train. étienne had given me this necklace, not just as a gesture, but as a way to hide what he couldn’t trust anyone else with. The information Diego has been searching for—the thing that got my brother killed—has been with me all along.

I swallow hard, my mind racing. Did he think I’d figure it out? Did he trust me to keep it safe?

The door creaks behind me, and I snap the locket shut, my heart leaping into my throat.

Diego steps into the room, his sharp eyes scanning the space before landing on me. “Find anything?”

I clutch the locket tightly, my fingers trembling. “No,” I say quickly, too quickly.

Diego’s gaze narrows slightly, but he doesn’t push. “Keep looking. If he hid something here, we need to find it.”

I nod, forcing myself to stay calm as he turns and leaves the room. Once the door clicks shut, I exhale shakily, the weight of the discovery settling over me.

I’ve had the answers all along. And now, I have to figure out what to do with them.

What did you want me to do with this, Etie?

The question plays in my mind, the locket now searing my skin and feeling far heavier than before.

This is what all of these people are after. The thing was with me this entire time. But the other thing that plagues me is my lie to Diego. It slipped so naturally from my lips that it unnerved me. But then I remember the very first warning my brother gave me.

Trust no one.

And I guess this is it. This is why.

So what do I do now?