Page 55 of Total Exposure

“Soon.”

“Today.”

“Not today. He’s smart. He’ll know. But if we do this right, believe me, we can get some really good shit out of that guy.”

She has to piece that last sentence together. The intercom is fucking up my delivery. But a few seconds of thought have her huffing out a small laugh. “Do you hate him? For what he did to your family?”

I’m speechless. But only for a moment. “He didn’t do anything to my family.”

“No?” Evangeline asks. “I disagree. I think that’s your story, Mr. Stranger. That’s what you’re hiding. He fucked your family up, didn’t he?”

“Do you want to see him or not?” I ask.

“Yes.”

I smile. Because she’s tipping her hand right now. And I’m figuring her out far faster than she can fight it. “Then write your story and go upstairs. It’s late. I’ll have something for you up there to get you through the night.”

“Where are you?” she asks, looking at all the cameras in the ballroom in quick succession.

“Close,” I say.

She shivers. I see it. I want to feel that sensation the next time she does it. But… Control, Ixion. That’s what’s needed right now.

“Will you be waiting for me upstairs?”

“No,” I whisper. “Not in person. But I’ll be watching.”

Chapter Nineteen - Evangeline

What the fuck does he want from me? Some kind of emotional breakdown? I scoff. Literally scoff. Because that’s never gonna happen. I might be afraid of some stupid things in this world, but I am not a coward. How dare he call me that?

He has no clue who he’s dealing with. I have played for queens and kings. I have played for rock stars and opera singers. I have played for presidents and ruling heads of criminal organizations.

I am no coward.

I grab the notebook and pen from the kitchen and then settle on the window-facing couch back in the ballroom and think.

He wants a personal story about why I’m here.

Fine. Let’s see what he thinks about this.

Have you ever felt like a number?

Just a number on a line, at a time

when no one else is there to see you stumble?

Anonymous child with preposterous guile

and an innocence that wants to take you under?

I scribble the words down. Furiously fast. Trying to get them out and get this over with.

Well, I have.

That was me.

Dressed up pretty.