Page 14

Camille

The first thing I notice when I wake is the quiet. No chaos, no whispers of danger creeping in from the shadows. Just stillness. Sunlight filters through the curtains, and for a brief moment, I let myself believe we’re safe.

Then reality sinks in.

I glance to my right, and that is when I see a small note on the side table. I reach for it and read the messy handwriting.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the “be good” part. I fall back onto the bed and look to the ceiling.

I close my eyes, fighting the knot tightening in my chest. I’ve been carrying the weight of too many secrets. The flash drive tucked away in my necklace feels heavier with every passing hour, and I can’t ignore the guilt gnawing at me. Diego has risked so much to keep me safe, and yet I’m hiding something that could change everything.

But how can I trust him when I’m not even sure I know who he really is?

This man has been my protector, my anchor in a sea of chaos. But I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something he’s not telling me. Something dark. I have felt it since the moment I met him.

I pull the blanket off of my body and walk out of the bedroom and head to the kitchen in search of something to eat. I can’t remember the last time I put something in my belly. I am almost to the kitchen when I spot a computer on the table and I realize that it’s Diego’s.

I clutch the necklace that hangs on my neck. I can feel the weight of the information that is stored inside of it. I am trying to be calm and to not be rash but I need to see what’s on it. I need to know why all of this unfolded like it has.

I hesitate for only a moment before crossing the room. My hands tremble as I settle in front of the laptop, the screen glowing to life.

I open the locket and pull out the drive and plug it in. My heart pounds as it loads onto the computer and the folder opens to reveal dozens and dozens of files. Each one has the name of who I presume étienne had gathered information on, including Diego. But there is even one with my name on it.

I click on it. And I find a video. I don’t even think before I press play on it.

Immediately, my brother’s face pops up.

He smiles at the camera but he’s sad. I can see the heaviness in his eyes.

“Hey Cams, if you’re seeing this, then it means that I’m dead. Likely the kill would have come from Diego and it is what I expected. I knew that going into this, I wouldn’t be leaving alive anyway. I wish I could have told you what I was doing. But it was too dangerous and I already lost one person I love to this world. I don't want to lose another. I’m sure Diego will have been in contact by now, and as crazy as this may sound to you, he is one of the good ones even though he is likely the one who pulled the trigger on me. He is a man of honor and I know he will honor me by keeping you alive so you can get the hell out of this place.

These files are everything I have on the cartel. Their books, their store supplies, the people they killed and got rid off—everything. I want you to take them down. I want them to pay for what they did to me and Ria. I know you will finish off what I started and you will avenge me. I know you will. I love you with all my heart, baby sister. I wish that it didn’t need to come to this.”

And then the screen goes black.

The quiet in the cabin presses against me, heavy and stifling. Diego isn’t here, and yet I feel his presence everywhere—the jacket draped over the back of a chair, the scent of him lingering in the room. Each reminder sends another wave of bitterness and anger coursing through me.

I pace back and forth, trying to calm the tempest inside. My hands tremble at my sides, fingers twitching with the urge to lash out, to break something, to scream. But none of that will help me now.

The computer screen is still open, the video showing my brother’s sad eyes, ready to replay again. I can’t bring myself to close it. I can’t stop looking at it.

I sit down heavily on the chair and press play again, even though I already know every second of it by heart. I listen to his words. My breath catches as he tells me again that Diego likely killed him.

Tears blur my vision, but I blink them away. I don’t have time to fall apart. Not now.

I grip the edge of the table, trying to anchor myself. A thousand questions race through my mind, each more agonizing than the last.

Why is Diego here now? Why did he bother saving me, protecting me, if he was the one who tore my family apart in the first place?

The answers don’t matter. Whatever his reasons, they can’t change the truth. Diego killed my brother.

And I’ve been falling for him.

The thought makes me feel sick. My chest tightens, and my nails dig into my palms so hard it hurts. How could I have been so blind? How could I let myself trust him, even for a second?

I glance toward the door, half expecting Diego to walk through it at any moment. He’s not here, but he will be soon, and I don’t know how I’m going to face him.

I need to act normal. I need to pretend nothing has changed. I have a plan in mind but it will require me to let his guard down completely.

But even as I tell myself that, I know it won’t be easy. Every time I think about him—every time I remember the way he held me last night, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered—it feels like a knife twisting deeper into my chest.

I hate him.

I hate him for what he did.

And I hate myself for still wanting to believe there’s more to him than the monster I’m starting to believe him to be.

He’s one of the good ones.

I glance at the necklace around my neck. All this time I had the answer. étienne trusted me with this. He believed I’d know what to do with it.

But right now, I don’t feel strong enough to live up to that trust.

I stand up abruptly, needing to do something—anything—to distract myself. My hands hover over the laptop, tempted to look through my brother's files again, but I stop myself. There’s no point in watching the video again.

I already have everything I need to destroy Diego.

The only question now is… when will I?

The sound of the door unlocking jolts me like a live wire. My heart lurches in my chest, and my hands instinctively curl into fists at my sides. I watch as Diego steps into the room, his movements deliberate but tense, his dark eyes scanning the space as if he’s already anticipating trouble.

He looks tired—more than tired. There’s a heaviness in his shoulders, a weight that wasn’t there before.

“Everything okay here?” he asks, his voice low, almost cautious.

I nod stiffly, forcing myself to keep my expression neutral. My heart is pounding, my mind racing with everything I’ve just discovered. The video. étienne. Diego. It’s all there, screaming at me, but I swallow it down.

“Yeah,” I manage, my voice steadier than I expected. “It’s fine.”

He watches me for a moment, his gaze lingering like he’s trying to read the truth behind my words. It takes everything in me not to flinch under the weight of his stare.

“You sure?” he presses, stepping closer.

I take a step back without thinking, and his brows knit together in confusion.

“I’m fine,” I say again, sharper this time. I hate the way my voice wavers at the end, betraying me.

Diego exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. “Good. Because we don’t have much time. The papers will be ready by morning, but we need to move quickly. The longer we stay in one place, the more dangerous it gets.”

I nod, not trusting myself to say anything. My throat feels tight, like it’s closing in on itself.

He takes another step toward me, his eyes softening. “Camille…”

The way he says my name—gentle, almost tender—makes my chest ache. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against my arm, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from pulling away.

I can’t do this. I can’t let him touch me, can’t let him look at me like that—not when I know the truth.

But even as my mind screams at me to push him away, my body betrays me. I stay rooted to the spot, my heart thudding painfully in my chest.

“You’ve been quiet,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “What’s going on?”

I shake my head, unable to meet his gaze. “Nothing,” I lie, my voice tight. “I’m just tired.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push me further. Instead, he lets out a quiet sigh and steps back, giving me space.

“Get some rest,” he says, his tone more distant now. “We’ll need to leave early.”

He turns away, heading toward the kitchen, and I’m left standing there, my emotions warring inside me.

I should hate him. I do hate him.

But as I watch him, the weight of his exhaustion evident in every step, I feel something else—a pull I can’t explain, a part of me that still wants to believe in him despite everything.

Before I can stop myself, I’m moving. My feet carry me across the room, closing the distance between us in a matter of seconds.

“Diego,” I say, my voice trembling.

He turns, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

And then I’m kissing him.

It’s not gentle—it’s desperate, raw, and full of every emotion I’ve been holding back. Anger, heartbreak, confusion—they all pour out in that moment, overwhelming me.

For a second, he doesn’t move, like he’s too stunned to react. But then his arms wrap around me, pulling me closer, and he kisses me back with just as much intensity.

When we finally pull apart, we’re both breathing hard, our faces inches apart.

“Fuck me.”

The words leave my lips breathlessly.