Page 95 of Tragic Empire

She captures her bottom lip between her teeth, considering it. “You don’t think whoever messaged me would use them against me?”

Shaking my head, I give her a small frown. “Ana, if this person knows you as well as they seem to, they already know about the orphanage. I don’t think going there will put it on their radar. They haven’t used it against you before. As much as I despise it, this person seems to care about you in some sort of twisted way.”

Buzz.Ana’s phone lights up with a notification and my shoulders go rigid, seeing the unknown title flash.

I swear to God, if there are more fucking cameras here?—

Unknown number

I’m still going to destroy him for putting his hands on you, but he’s right. I care for you more than you’ll ever know. Your orphans are safe. The little boys you’re playing house with? Not so much.

Ana reads and sucks in a breath. “Can he hear us?”

“Little boys?” I huff. “I’m nearly thirty.”

“Do we need to look for more cameras?” she asks, sounding defeated.

Unknown number

Don’t bother. There aren’t any hidden. I told you, I don’t need cameras to see you, Ana.

“We’re looking anyway,” I reassure her, pulling out my phone to text Armani. I need him down here, stat.

Unknown number

But back to the matter at hand…

Unknown number

To show you how generous I can be. I’ll give you a free pass. Eight hours, no spying. Only for you to go see the children. Say, this Friday?

I hate that I believe him. It could be a trap, but I know he won’t use it as one. He wants to appeal to Ana, to make himself more desirable by giving her something that she wants. And I love her too much to deny her the opportunity.

She gives me a hopeful look, like she’s asking for permission. Despite my better judgement, my head dips in a nod of approval.

Ana

Promise?

Unknown number

Cross my heart.

Ana swallows hard. “My mom used to say that.”

He’s been watching her for a long time.I’m going to have his eyes in a fucking jar for that.

Shaking off the fear the messages bring her, a hesitant smile tugs at her lips. “I get to see the kids.”

“You do,” I agree softly.

“I’m still going to send in a donation,” she decides, growing excited. “Ooo, let me go get my photo albums. I can show you some of them while you look for cameras.” A kiss is smacked against my lips in a rush, and she’s springing off the couch before I can reply.

When she returns minutes later, Colton and Armani have already joined me in scouring the living room for listening devices and cameras. Carrying two big books, she flops down on the sofa, immediately beginning to thumb through them.

She calls us over to look at memory after memory, attaching little tidbits of information and stories about the children and the other volunteers as she goes. She’s so enthusiastic that we abandon our search in favor of sitting with her and hanging on her every word.

But one picture changes everything.