Empire of Lies - Whitney G. Page 0,77

that I don’t go through with, and that’s not enough?”

“It’ll never be enough.” Tears fall down my face. “And I guarantee that I will hate you for the rest of my life for doing this to me.”

“Then maybe I shouldn’t have saved you.” He presses his forehead against mine, his gaze heated. “Maybe I should’ve never gotten involved, fucked you, or wasted my time marrying you.”

“On some nights, I honestly wish you hadn’t.” I glare at him. “The life I’m currently living isn’t much of a ‘life’ at all.”

He says nothing. He just stares at me, his gaze colder than it’s ever been.

I stare right back, not backing down—not showing any sign of vulnerability.

He releases his left hand from around my waist and lifts it to my head. Then he slowly runs his fingers through my hair.

“You dyed your hair another color like I suggested, for your new life,” he says. “Why couldn’t you follow the other instructions?”

“Because those instructions came minutes after you said you would be finalizing our divorce.”

Silence.

“Is that why you came looking for me?” I say, wondering how the hell he found me. “To throw more salt in the wound and tell me that we’re legally over? If so, you could’ve saved the gas; no divorce is needed if there’s a death.”

He doesn’t get a chance to respond to that.

Knocks that are ten times louder than his suddenly sound at the door.

“Housekeeping!” A deep male voice says. “Is now a good time to clean?”

Michael glances at his watch. Then he shoots me a concerned look. “Who the hell have you been talking to at this resort?”

“No one,” I say, shaking my head. “Well, not by choice.”

“What the hell are you saying?”

The knocks come again and again. This time, there are other deep voices, and I know they belong to the three men who were standing outside my old room hours ago.

Michael doesn’t ask me anything else. He covers my mouth with his hand and pulls me into the suite’s bathroom. Then he pulls me into a utility closet. He slides a panel behind us, shielding us from view, should someone open the blinded door.

“Don’t say a word,” he warns, and within seconds, the door to my room is kicked open.

Footsteps hit the bathroom floor and someone opens the door to the utility closet and quickly slams it shut. They pull out all the vanity drawers, rummage through the private closet, and knock their guns against the tinted shower glass doors until they shatter.

“I thought the guy at the front desk said she moved to this room,” one guy says. “Did he give us the right number?”

“2206,” another guy says. “This is it.”

“In that case, we’ll need to wait here for an hour or so until she gets back.”

“If she gets back…”

“Her passport is still here. She has to come back.”

I swallow, recognizing that voice.

“She may not have been lying about being here with her husband, Boss.”

“Doubtful,” he says. “Front desk says she checked in alone, and I’ll make sure she leaves alone. Give me her passport.”

“That ring can’t be worth that much,” another guy says.

“In that case, give me five million from your own account,” he says, scoffing. “Just try not to be too rough with her after I take it.”

“What does it matter how rough I am when I fuck these foreign, tourist girls?” he asks. “It’s not like they can report the shit from their graves.”

“Just not too fucking rough, okay?” He hisses. “Because I said so.” He pauses, and the footsteps move to the bedroom. “Put your silencer on.”

Michael’s body stiffens against mine, and I can feel anger rolling off him in waves.

Letting out a slow sigh, he grips my waist and stills me. Even in the darkness, I can tell that he’s looking into my eyes.

“Ignore whatever the hell you hear,” he whispers. “And don’t make a sound. Can you follow those instructions?”

I nod, but he must not believe me. He grabs my hands and slowly positions them over my mouth. Whispering, he repeats his directions and then he slowly moves the panel to step into the bathroom.

Loud laughter erupts from the bedroom, and then there’s a sudden silence.

“What the—” One of the men says. “Who the fuck are you? Where did you come from?”

His sentence is answered by a series of gunshots. The sound of shattered glass and pained screaming follow.

Oh, my fucking God…

I hear what sounds like a wall collapsing, like its falling right over me.

I hold back screams as