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Voice sharp.

Clipped.

Unforgiving.

Her eyes?

Dark.

Cold.

There was no running from this.

No deflecting.

No fixing it with sex this time.

I had to answer.

Yes or no.

I wasn’t going to lie.

I’d lied to other women.

But Ayla wasn’t other women.

So… I told her.

“I was, but then my?—”

“God.” She exhaled sharply. “Hassani, I can’t do this shit anymore.”

I held my breath.

Didn’t let it go.

“I can’t do this, and I don’t want to.”

“Ayla—”

“Every fucking night…” she cut me off. Her voice was shaking. Her hands were shaking. “… since you started this project, Hassani… has been hell for me.”

I shut my eyes.

Dropped my tense shoulders.

Because shit…

Since I started this project, it’s been hell for me too.

“This woman you’re working with… hmph.” Ayla laughed bitterly then inhaled a breath. No humor. Just pain.

She damn near growled.

“She is up to something. And I’m tired of telling you about her.”

Her voice cracked.