Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
I anxiously paced in front of the store windows, pretending to browse while my gaze darted towards the designated meeting spot—the third palm tree from the left, third row of benches. Iset’s instructions had seemed strange at first, but now that I was here, seeing the open layout and the field of palm trees, her instructions made perfect sense.
The bench in question was exposed, yet it would be easy to blend into the bustling crowds of Brookfield Place shopping center.
My heart raced as I checked my phone again, the seconds ticking by with excruciating slowness. What if this was a setup? Or a trap?
The thought sent a shiver down my spine, but I forced myself to remain calm. Paranoia wouldn’t help me one bit.
I scanned the open floor again. The late afternoon sun filtered through the glass ceiling, casting a warm glow over the upscale shopping center. Shoppers milled about, their laughter and chatter mingling into a murmur.
I inhaled deeply, the scent of fresh pretzels and coffee intertwining as my fingers drummed an erratic rhythm against my thigh. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other; I needed something to keep me occupied.
I reached for my phone and opened social media. I had a couple of DMs.
A group of teenagers brushed past me, their boisterous voices shattering my little bubble. I flinched, my grip tightening on my phone as I scanned the sleek marble floors and polished, glass storefronts once more.
The bench was still empty.
My thumb hovered over the screen as I read the first message. Apparently, my friends had had a good run at the BJJ tournament and were now out partying in an Irish pub called O’Malley’s. I looked up the address, and surprisingly, it wasn’t that far from here.
Since I couldn’t make it to watch them at the tournament, it would be great to see them. But the thought of a crowded pub, filled with raucous laughter and the stale scent of beer, twisted my stomach into knots. How could I even think about socializing when my life was such a dumpster fire?
I looked up again. The bench was still empty, which was a miracle in itself with the crowd of people mingling in the court.
A flash of movement caught my eye, and I tensed, my gaze zeroing in on the designated meeting spot. A young woman who’d been strolling around for a while suddenly neared the bench.
My bench.
My pulse thundered in my ears as she approached, her stride purposeful yet cautious.
Iset?
I tensed, my breath catching in my throat as they drew nearer. This was it.
But at the last minute, she changed direction and chose another one to sit on.
I slowly released my breath. This was killing me. I was not cut out for this shit.
And if that whole situation made one thing perfectly clear, it was that I was done being a hacker, done doing stuff against the law. I had a short run, but that was enough thrill to last me for a lifetime. A lifetime I would possibly need to spend in hiding.
Damn. I should’ve thought this whole thing through before acting.
My palms grew slick, and I almost fumbled with my phone as it suddenly vibrated in my hand.
Iset: I’m here.
I looked up, scanned the area again. The bench was still empty, so I texted back.
Nyx: I’m here as well.
I stared at the message, my heart pounding in my chest. This was it, the moment of truth. I had to make a decision, and fast.
Iset: We’re smart not to trust each other.
I chewed my lip, my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I weighed my options. Trust had been a rare commodity in my life lately and for good reason. But something deep within me yearned for the connection, someone who knew that side of me. Who was in the same deep shit as me.
With a deep breath, I typed out my response.
Nyx: Come to me. I’m by the Longchamp storefront, near the fountain.
My thumb hovered over the send button for a heartbeat, then I hit it before I could second-guess myself. There was no turning back now.
I tucked my phone away and forced myself to remain still, resisting the urge to pace or fidget. I scanned the crowd, my eyes flitting from face to face, searching for any hint of recognition.
And then, like a bolt of lightning, my gaze locked onto the woman who’d approached the bench but then chose another one.
She glanced down at her phone, her expression unreadable, then looked up, her eyes meeting mine. A slow smile curved her lips as she stood, weaving her way through the throngs of shoppers in my direction.
My breath caught in my throat as she drew nearer, her stride confident.
Up close, I could make out her features—a heart-shaped face framed by sleek, jet-black hair, her eyes lined with kohl, giving her a striking, almost feline appearance.
Iset. It had to be her.
She slowed as she approached, her gaze sweeping over me in a frank appraisal. “Nyx?”
I swallowed hard, nodding. “Iset?”
Her smile widened, and she extended her hand. “In the flesh.”
I grasped her hand, her grip firm and reassuring. “I wasn’t sure…”
Iset arched a perfectly sculpted brow. “Likewise. But here we are.”
Her gaze flickered around the open space of the shopping center. Iset seemed to mirror my unease, her posture stiff as she gave the area a once-over, dark eyes missing nothing. “Maybe meeting here wasn’t such a smart idea,” she said.
Our eyes met for a second, an unspoken understanding passing between us. We were both acutely aware of the risks we were taking by being so exposed and out in the open.
I scanned the area again, and despite the typical atmosphere, every fiber of my being was on high alert, scanning each passing face for any hint of danger.
“Maybe we should’ve chosen something…less out in the open?” Iset murmured, inclining her head toward the seating area nearby, which still felt too exposed.
I nodded jerkily, forcing my feet to move as we made our way over to one of the benches.
Iset took a seat first, back ramrod straight, while I slid in beside her, leaving a careful distance between us.
Up close, I could make out the faint scent of her perfume—something crisp and citrusy, like freshly peeled oranges.
For a long moment, silence stretched between us, thick and weighted. I clasped my hands tightly in my lap, my knee bouncing with pent-up nervous energy.
The world continued around us, oblivious—shoppers chattering and laughing, footsteps echoing against the marble floors.
Iset finally broke the awkward silence. “I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d show.” Her voice was low, barely audible over the ambient noise surrounding us.
I risked a sidelong glance at her. “Honestly? Neither did I.”
A wry smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Smart move on both our parts, I suppose.”
“Yeah…” I trailed off, my gaze skittering away as a commotion happened across the floor, grating on my already frayed nerves.
Iset noticed it, too, and suddenly straightened. “This feels too exposed. My apartment is nearby. What do you say; should we go there?”
I stared at her, contemplated her suggestion for a second, then shook my head. I definitely didn’t trust her enough to follow her to some “apartment.”
“Let’s go to O’Malleys on West. It’s not far from here,” I blurted out and immediately regretted it. There would be a bunch of people there who knew me. Why did I even suggest that?
“Sure, there shouldn’t be too much of a crowd there this early.”
I nodded. She was probably living around here, so, of course, she would know the pub.
Oh God. I was so far out of my comfort zone, it wasn’t even funny.
“Let’s go,” Iset said, stood, and I followed. She led us out toward a side exit, and again, I hesitated. I shouldn’t be trusting her, right?
Iset remained silent, her gaze scanning our surroundings with an almost feral intensity. It was clear she was just as wary as I was, her every move calculated and cautious.
Maybe I could trust her.
As we neared the exit, I couldn’t resist stealing glances in her direction. Up close, I could make out a beauty spot under her left eye. Also, the way her dark lashes fanned out against her cheeks with each measured blink was envy-inducing.
She was beautiful in an almost dangerous way—like a sleek panther coiled and ready to strike, underscored by the very sexy black leather pants she was wearing.
She looked professional, badass, like a woman of the world despite being around my age—everything I wasn’t.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine, and I quickly averted my gaze, focusing instead on the path ahead.
We stepped out into the cool late-afternoon air, the sounds of the city enveloping us. Iset paused for a moment, her head swiveling as she took in our surroundings.
“This way,” she murmured, inclining her head toward the bustling street.
I followed her, my senses heightened as we wove through the throngs of people—business people rushing through groups of tourists snapping photos.
The air was thick with the scents of exhaust fumes and street food, the cacophony of honking horns, and the sheer volume of everything assaulting my ears.
Manhattan was something else.
Iset didn’t seem fazed by the chaos. She moved with a fluid grace, her strides long and purposeful as if she’d walked these streets a thousand times before.
Which she probably had.
I struggled next to her, my heart pounding in my ears as I fought the urge to shrink back, to disappear into safety.
An image of Vince Salvini appeared in my mind, and I scoffed. Vince was a lot of things—all the complete opposite of safety. And yet, somehow, walking alongside him and Picca, I’d felt much safer. And even facing his father, I’d felt secure once he was by my side.
My mind automatically went to the kiss, how he back-hugged me after and told me it never happened, the asshole.
Had all of this just happened yesterday? All in one day? Because it felt like I’d known him so much longer, as if the time we’d spent with each other had been way longer than a day.
“You’re not from here, right?” Iset said and pulled me out of my daydreams.
“No,” I said, not volunteering any more information.
“How did you get into…those online activities? You’re a newbie, right?” she asked.
I glanced at her sideways, and she raised both hands. “Don’t get me wrong, I know nothing about your background; that’s just the impression I got.”
I nodded for as much confirmation as I was comfortable to give. “How long have you been into…those online activities,” I asked.
She grinned. “I started when I was thirteen. I was hiding in my room a lot back then.”
I stared at her. Thirteen? Wow. “How old are you now?”
“I’m twenty-three. You?”
“Twenty-one. What do you think will happen?” I asked right as we turned a corner, and suddenly, the boisterous atmosphere of O’Malley’s Pub spilled out onto the sidewalk.
Maybe it wouldn’t be so calm and quiet despite the early hours.
We entered, and the unmistakable scent of stale beer and fried food wafted through the air, mingling with the sounds of raucous laughter and the tinny strains of a jukebox.
Iset slowed her pace, her gaze flicking toward me. Then she turned to face me fully, her expression unreadable. “You feel okay here?” Her voice was low, tinged with a hint of concern.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. Was I okay? Absolutely not. But something—call it foolish bravery or sheer desperation—pushed me to nod.
A ghost of a smile tugged at Iset’s lips. “Alright then.” She inclined her head toward a free table. “Do you want a beer?”
I nodded.
Iset went to the bar while I took a chair at the table. I let my gaze sweep over the crowded space. Nobody paid me any attention, which was a relief, but I didn’t see any of my friends either. Maybe they hadn’t gotten here yet.
Iset handed me a glass and slid into the seat across from me, her dark eyes sweeping the crowded space with a guarded wariness that mirrored my own.
I traced the condensation on my glass with my fingertip, acutely aware of Iset’s scrutinizing gaze.
“So,” I began, my voice barely audible over the noise and music, “what do you think will happen? If our identities are revealed?”
Iset’s expression remained inscrutable as she leaned back and settled her shoulders against the worn leather of the booth. “The auction is set for this afternoon,” she said, her lips barely moving. “Either it already happened or will be any second now.”
A chill raced down my spine at her words, the gravity of our situation sinking in. How could she stay so cool while my throat constricted as I swallowed hard, fighting against the rising tide of panic? “How will we know?”
Iset’s gaze flicked to mine, holding it for a beat. “Life is about taking risks,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Things going wrong is always a possibility.”
I nodded jerkily, my fingers curling into tight fists beneath the table. She was right, of course. From the moment I’d first slipped into the online world of hacking, I’d known the consequences of getting caught. I just thought it would be my father figuring things out, not some stranger paying money to get my real identity. The reality of it still felt like a punch to the gut. “What will they do with the information once they know?”
A roar from a nearby table made me flinch, my nerves completely frayed.
Iset seemed to sense my unease, her expression softening ever so slightly. “Hey,” she said, leaning forward. “We’ll figure this out, okay? We’re too smart not to.”
Her words were a lifeline, a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos swirling around inside of me. So I clung to them, forcing myself to meet her gaze. In that moment, despite our probable vast differences, I felt an inexplicable kinship with this woman—this virtual stranger who understood the weight of the predicament I was in, in a way no one else could.
A familiar burst of raucous laughter reached my ears, shattering the moment. I turned, my gaze landing on a group of my friends from the gym as they spilled through the entrance, loud, full of boisterous energy, and most likely already drunk, if their level of noise was any indicator.
Iset followed my line of sight, her brows arching slightly. “Friends of yours?”
I nodded, the corners of my mouth tugging upward despite myself. “Yeah. From my old life, I guess.”
The words hung heavy in the air as I suddenly realized what my subconscious had struggled with for quite some time. This was it—my last hurrah, the final farewell to the world and the life I’d known before everything went to hell. Because either I disappeared or I would be forced to marry Matteo Salvini—and with either scenario, my life as I’d known it was over.
A bittersweet ache settled in my chest, but I forced it down, plastering on a smile as my friends descended upon our table in a whirlwind of hugs and jovial greetings.
Iset seemed to click with them instantly. Her guarded demeanor melted away as she bantered and laughed alongside them. I’d always admired people who could adapt to new situations and people like that.
She looked at me as if she sensed me staring, winked, then turned back around, focused on the conversation, and laughed at a joke one of the guys made.
I watched, a sense of disbelief mingling with relief but also sadness. If I’d met Iset under different circumstances, I would’ve wanted to become friends.
Because my intuition told me she could’ve become someone I could share a genuine connection with.
As the drinks flowed and the laughter grew louder, I allowed myself to get swept up in the fun—and be pulled onto the dance floor.
If this was the last time I’d be able to hang out with the people from my old life, I would at least cherish this time instead of broodingly watching from the sidelines.
This might be my final chance to blow off steam for a while, as well.
At least until I made the final decision on how to go on.
I exhaled slowly, then took a swig of my beer before moving my hips to the music. Who was I kidding? I had to disappear, no matter what. Vincenzo Salvini—despite kissing me—was not one to change his mind. My father was not one to break a promise, and I would not change my mind either.
Marrying Matt Salvini? Never.
So, that left me with only one option going forward.
Running away.
Hiding.
Starting a new life.
So, this was my farewell party, of sorts. I raised my glass to my lips again. The thought filled me with sadness, but at the same time, it felt oddly freeing.
As if having finally made the decision was like shedding a weight I’d been carrying for far too long.
I caught Iset’s eye from across the room—we’d ditched the table a while ago.
She cocked her head and looked at me, and I smiled at her. She was probably the only one in here who would understand if I told her about the decision I’d just made. And maybe I should. She would make a good ally. And I desperately wanted at least one person on my side—one who knew what I was about to do.
I moved across the room until I was standing next to her. She raised her brow, and I shrugged, my throat suddenly tight.
“We’ll find a way, I promise,” she said to me as if she could read my mind.
I nodded.
“Why don’t we enjoy the night and brainstorm tomorrow?”
I nodded again and held her gaze, a silent understanding passing between us.
For tonight, at least, I could still be Jemma Donnelly. I could be young, carefree, and alive.
And as the night wore on, that’s exactly what I did. I drank, danced, I flirted. I enjoyed joking around and laughing with my friends.
And the weight that had been weighing on my shoulders fell away, if only for tonight.