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“She wanted to make a plan to confront Marco.”
“What?” he booms, startling me. “Where is she?”
“Upstairs.”
He picks up his phone and places a call. “Lay eyes on Valentina—immediately. Let me know when it’s done.”
My heart sinks as he takes a step toward blowing up my relationship with Valentina.
He ends the call, throttling the phone, his jaw ticcing.
“So you and Valentina have been scheming to bring down a psychopath?”
He’s talking to me like an angry parent would talk to a teenager the police busted at a wild party. I don’t like it, but it’s the least of my worries right now.
“I was buying time, hoping she’d come to her senses and talk to you. But this morning she was still obsessed with trapping him. She wants to bring him down. She thinks she’s the only one who can do it.”
The phone buzzes, and he holds up a finger before taking the call. “Yeah.” He swallows and his features relax. “Do not, I repeat, do not let her out of your sight. Expect her to try to slip security. If she’s successful, I’ll hold your entire team responsible.”
I shudder because he means your entire team will die.
He tosses his phone on the table beside him. “Finish what you were saying.”
“She feels responsible, Rafael.”
“Responsible for what? That he drugged her?”
His tone is biting, but there’s no time to lick my wounds. There’s more hard stuff to share.
“When I was trying to convince her that he was too dangerous to confront,” I explain, my stomach in knots, “I told her about the man in the photograph with Marco.”
He stares into my eyes, and although his expression is stoic, his eyes flicker dangerously.
“I had to. She—she has a thirst for vengeance that I’ve never seen from her, and she wants him punished at any cost, especially for any involvement with the traffickers. Valentina thinks he sold information to them. She believes that she’s the only person who can get him to admit what he’s done. If we don’t help her, she’s going to take matters into her own hands. I’m certain.”
He stands up and steps behind the chair, white-knuckling the upholstered back.
“Oh, I’m going to help her. Don’t you worry.”
He’s venomous, and I lean back in my chair to move farther away from the ugliness that’s sure to come. Because I can’t let him fix this in the way he wants.
“This is the very hard part,” I say, in a strong voice with my head high. “She needs to be the one who cleans up the mess. She won’t be able to live with herself otherwise. I’m very worried about it.”
He narrows his gaze. “Are you saying she’s at risk for suicide?”
“I’m not saying that. But I don’t know.” I pause. “She needs to be part of whatever you do. You need to make it happen. I’m trusting you, Rafael,” I plead with every cell of my person.
“When did she first come to you about this?”
“Yesterday morning.”
“You’ve known for twenty-four hours but you didn’t come to me immediately—instead you concocted a plan to bring down Marco? What the fuck, Lexie?”
I wince.
Reckless. There it is.
“I told you that you weren’t entitled to anyone else’s secrets, but I made an exception because the circumstances are dire and because I trust you. It’s not just her physical safety on the line, but also her long-term emotional well-being, and my relationship with her is at great risk too. I’m trusting you with all of it.” Please don’t let me down.
