Chapter Forty-Five
“I’m Victoria.” She holds a hand out. “Do not, under any circumstance, ever call me Vicky.”
My lips curve up and I take her hand in mine. “You already know my name.”
“How can I help you?” Her words are kind, an offer to assist—exactly what I need—but her eyes are full of furious scheming. She’s not helping me, not really. She’s helping herself by using me. But it serves my purpose, and that’s good enough.
“I need to talk to Ian.”
“Easy.” She goes to a black purse resting on the bed, pulls out a phone, swipes, presses a button, and suddenly, it’s ringing on speakerphone.
“My love,” croons a man’s voice—Ian’s. But it’s different somehow. Like with Victoria, Ian is a different person. “I’m working, but can I call you back in half an hour?”
Thirty minutes. Is that how long Brian has left to live? A fresh dose of panic sets in—he could die. I’ll never have a chance to know who he really is, if he truly loves me. If our family matters to him, what he’s hiding and why.
The reality is that my fear of him finding out who I really am is one reason he’s in danger now. Because there was no way for me to explain knowing his secret without exposing my own. But now it’s too late. Now, there is no way to keep it to myself.
I can’t rescue Brian as Nadia, events planner, mom, wife. I can only rescue him as Nadia, hitwoman. Which will likely put an end to us too. Even if whatever he’s doing is forgivable, I’ve been lying to him. But it’s that or his death. At least this way he has a chance.
“I’m in your hotel room,” Victoria purrs. It’s impossible to miss the thread of impatience. “And where are you?”
“You’re in Texas?” He sighs. “I told you, I’m working.”
“Are you sure?” The pitch of her voice changes, challenging him.
“My love, it is only you. Please stop this nonsense. Why would I answer the phone if I’m with another woman?”
I almost feel bad for lying to her—even if it was the tiniest of lies.
Clearly, this is something they’ve discussed before, likely because she’s suspicious of him.
And for good reason. If I hadn’t put a stop to it, Ian and I would have had sex.
At the time, I simply hadn’t cared much about him having a wife—I thought about how my own husband was cheating on me, lying to me, how I had every right to do the same to him.
But now I wonder if I’m not the only one Ian has gotten physical with besides Victoria. Ian is one smooth player.
“Where are you, darling?” she demands. The emphasis on darling is not loving. It’s threatening. My eyes widen. Victoria is a good match for Ian. She knows what he does for a living and isn’t afraid to speak to him this way. I like her more for it.
“I can’t tell you. Now listen, I’m in the middle of something. I have to go. Stay there, I’ll come back soon. We can talk, have dinner—”
Victoria raises her gaze to me, questioning. She holds out the phone, and I don’t hesitate to snatch it up.
“Nadia speaking.”
He hisses, curses. “God damn it, Nadia, what are you doing? Why are you with my wife?”
He sounds worried. Good.
“Why aren’t you answering my calls?”
“You know why.”
“Because you betrayed me?”
“Your husband is an expensive mark. You’re not getting the job done. Someone else will. Might as well be me. I’m doing you a favor.”
“Really? Are you?”
“Yes.”
“Do not kill him.” I enunciate each word precisely. “Do you understand?”
“This is business, Nadia. You know this is how it works. Or you should.”
“No, it’s not. This is personal. You claim to be my friend. So don’t kill my husband. I need to talk to him. I need to know—”
“Isn’t it enough to know he’s bad? That he’s like us but worse?”
A breathy silence. “We don’t know anything, not for sure,” I manage. Is Brian there? Did he hear what Ian said?
“I know enough. Go home. Leave Victoria be.”
“Ian, listen to me!” I let my voice rise, the volume, the pitch. “If you kill him—” I look around desperately, but the only option is right in front of me. Victoria. “If you kill him, if you kill my husband, I’ll kill your wife.”
Ian laughs. “No, you won’t. She didn’t do anything wrong. You’re a good person in your own fucked-up way, Nadia. You won’t hurt her.”
“I will.” I hand Victoria the phone, motion for her to hold it up. I pull my gun out, pull the slide back so it makes the dramatic clicking noise appropriate for Hollywood drama. “I swear to god, Ian. I’ll shoot her right now, while you listen.”
A beat of silence. When he speaks, his tone is lower, stoic.
“She knows what I am. She accepted the risk, being with me. My job is the most important thing, and she’s aware of that too.
Kill her if you must, but know this—if you do, I’ll kill your husband.
And then I’m coming for you next.” And with that, he hangs up.
Victoria and I are left staring at each other, wide-eyed.
“That motherfucker,” she hisses. “On second thought, kill him for me, will you?”