Page 72 of The Blonde Who Came in from the Cold (The Blonde Identity #2)

Present Day

Paris, France

Alex

Alex watched the team from Interpol as they hauled Tyler away and tried to remind herself that she was supposed to be feeling...

something. Pity or anger or even regret. Part of her knew she should have been mourning the sweeter-than-average guy who had

been nice to her ten years before, but, more than anything, she was proud that, deep down, she’d always known that she’d be

better off as Michael Kingsley’s enemy than as that guy’s friend.

“So that’s it?” Zoe sidled up to them. Sawyer stood not far away, still in his commando black while Zoe was still dressed

exactly like Alex. With hair exactly like Alex’s. But the look on her face was entirely, one hundred percent Zoe, and Alex

wondered what it would feel like to be more like her sister.

Because Zoe was the strong one. Zoe was the brave one. Zoe was the one who had grabbed life with both hands and taken control.

Zoe had said that love and happiness were just as important as strength and success, just as essential and endangered. And

now Zoe had peace. Zoe had joy.

Zoe had Sawyer.

“He’s dreamy, right?” Zoe cut her eyes at Sawyer. “Go ahead. You can say it. I know you want to say it.”

“Is he... Is it...” Alex didn’t even know what she was trying to ask, but Zoe did. Because Zoe knew who Alex was beneath

the covers and the lies.

“Is it as great as it’s supposed to be?” her sister guessed.

“It’s better.” She sounded almost defiant as she looked at Alex—as if, for once, Alex was the one who needed to be stronger.

She’d always thought that settling down meant settling .

It was right there in the name! But the look on Zoe’s face as she watched Sawyer do something as basic as talk on the phone

was a kind of bliss that Alex hadn’t even known was possible. “He’s not my epilogue, you know. He’s my novel .”

And for the first time, Alex had to wonder if maybe happy endings weren’t just possible—if maybe they were possible for someone

like her .

“So, amnesia, huh?” There was something like pity in her sister’s eyes. Pity and understanding and... intrigue. Like after

a decade in covert operations, Alex’s life had finally gotten interesting. “Do you remember anything ?”

“I remember you. And Mom and Dad. And how to build an independent suspension system from scratch.” Zoe laughed, and Alex had

to think about it. “I always knew who I was.”

“That’s good.” Zoe looked pensive, then a little sad, and then resigned. “Not knowing who you are sucks. But sometimes...”

Her gaze drifted to Sawyer, and it was like she had turned to watch the sun. Light fell over her face and her features softened.

“Sometimes you have to forget who you are to figure out who you want to be, you know?”

Alex did know. She’d been making and remaking herself for so long—over and over again—since before she’d ever heard of the

Farm or Michael Kingsley. Alex had spent her whole life trying to be stronger and faster and better. But maybe all she ever

needed to be was herself?

“Okay.” Zoe slapped her hands together. “Now what’s our plan to find this ring?”

King looked like he was going to choke as he walked in their direction. “ Our plan?”

“Oh, we’re a team. Two Sterlings are way better than one.”

Alex wasn’t sure if she agreed, but she definitely couldn’t argue, because she was still trying to reconcile the sight of her sister and King in the same place at the same time. Her worlds were colliding, so she wasn’t necessarily thinking clearly.

King glanced around, looking nervous. Almost guilty as he dropped his voice and said, “You should go with them.” Was he talking

to Alex? He wasn’t, was he? He couldn’t be, because they were in this together. This was their problem. Their mission. Their

life.

“King—”

“I need to track down Merritt.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Notice how she’s conveniently disappeared? Again. You should

go to the hotel or—”

“Or what?” Alex snapped. “We still don’t know where the ring is. Or why Tyler and Kozlov wanted it. Or how they got the jump

on us in Vegas. Or, heck, why we were in Vegas.”

Someone cleared a throat, and they turned to see Sawyer sidling closer. He was off the phone but still looking down at the

screen, finger moving and swiping until he found what he was looking for and froze. Alex had been undercover with the man

for five years, but she couldn’t even start to read his face when he said, “According to MI6—”

“Ooh, did you talk to the Duke of Hottington?” Zoe asked.

“Who?” King looked at Sawyer, who gave a nod as if to say, I’ll explain later .

“They just raided Tyler’s London flat, and they found a bunch of audio recordings on a laptop.” Sawyer looked at Alex. “Including

one he created using a sampling of King’s voice, telling you that Zoe was in the hospital in Vegas.”

Alex felt almost sick as she turned and looked at King. “He deepfaked you. That’s how he got me there.” She would have felt

silly if it hadn’t been so simple. “But how did he lure you to Vegas?”

King was staring oddly into the distance, like a fog was lifting. Like it was a dream he’d only just remembered. His eyes

went from hazy and unfocused to laser sharp as he found Alex’s gaze and said, “You.”

And then Zoe whispered, “Gasp.”