Chapter 5

CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEW

The parking garage of the hotel where i lodged was too quiet. My heels echoed against concrete, each click bouncing off empty cars and shadowed pillars. It was late, past midnight, but something felt wrong. Off.

My confrontation with Rose and my family had left me drained, empty except for the cold satisfaction of finally seeing behind her mask. I fumbled with my key fob, wanting nothing more than to get to my hotel room and plan my next move.

A car door slammed somewhere in the darkness.

I stopped, listening. Nothing but the hum of fluorescent lights and the distant sound of traffic.

My phone buzzed in my purse. Rose's number. I declined it, but not before noticing my signal had dropped to one bar.

Perfect.

Footsteps behind me. Multiple sets.

I walked faster, cursing my choice of heels. The hotel's elevator was just around

the corner, past a row of concrete pillars. If I could just...

"Going somewhere, Mrs. Rodriguez?"

A man stepped out from behind a pillar. Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in black. Professional. Two more appeared behind me, cutting off my retreat.

Not a random attack, then.

My voice stayed steady despite my racing heart. "And I have

man smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "I'm

I'd started carrying after signing the divorce papers. "Did my sister send

to remain anonymous." He stepped closer. "Now, we

pepper spray

sprinted for the elevator. The

Just a few

my hair, yanking me backward. My purse went

voice was rough

kicking, scratching, but they were too strong.

employer said you might be difficult." The first man wiped his streaming eyes. "Said

This had Rose written all over it. Her parting shot, making sure I understood just how powerless

spat, "at least have the guts to look me in

No, no. Just a message. A reminder of what

me in the stomach, driving the air from my lungs. I doubled over, gasping, but

in life." Another blow, this one to my ribs. "Some people need to

tasted blood. My vision blurred, pain shooting through my body. But I wouldn't cry. Wouldn't

"That's enough."

cut through the garage like a whip

saw dark figures emerging from the shadows. Men in suits, moving with military precision. And behind

in her fifties but with an ageless

a black designer suit that probably cost more than my car, her silver hair swept into a

caught me. Sharp, intelligent, and oddly...

my

a very bad day." The woman's

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