Undone

Amara Reed

Harry is now back in the room and sits across from me, his face carefully blank, but I know better. I've been watching him, studying him the way I've had to study every man who has ever tried to control my fate. He's not like Matteo's other men. There's something hesitant about him, something that wavers even when he tries to play the role of enforcer.

That hesitation is my way out.

I lean back against the chair, exhaling slowly. The weight of his gaze settles over me, but I don't look away. He wants answers. Matteo wants results. And I need to give them something—something believable, something just close enough to the truth that they won't question it, but twisted in a way that protects me.

A lie. But a lie laced with enough reality to make it stick.

I wet my lips and let my expression shift—just enough to suggest reluctance, just enough to make him think he's prying something out of me that I don't want to give.

"I'll tell you what you want to know," I say, my voice quiet, as if the words are being dragged out of me against my will.

Harry doesn't move. He just watches me, waiting. He's good at this—good at making people talk. But he doesn't realize I'm the one controlling the conversation now.

I sigh and drop my gaze to my hands, a practiced move, meant to make me look uncertain, vulnerable. "There's something Matteo's looking for, right?"

Harry's jaw tightens slightly. He doesn't answer, but he doesn't have to. I already know the answer.

"I don't have it," I say, shaking my head. "But I know who does."

That's the hook. Now I just have to reel him in.

Harry leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Who?"

I hesitate, letting the silence stretch just long enough to build the tension. "I can't tell you that," I say finally, looking up at him. "Not yet."

His expression darkens, and I know he's trying to figure out if I'm playing him. I am, of course. But I have to make him believe this lie is something he can work with, something he can take to Matteo and use to buy me more time.

I let out a slow breath and shift slightly in my chair, feigning discomfort. "If I tell you now, I'm dead. Matteo will have what he wants, and I'll be disposable. You know it, and I know it."

Harry doesn't respond right away, and that's how I know I've struck a nerve. He knows exactly how Matteo operates. He knows what happens to people who are no longer useful.

"I need a deal," I continue, my voice barely above a whisper. "If I give you a name, I need something in return."

Harry narrows his eyes. "You're not in a position to make demands."

I force out a hollow laugh. "And yet, here you are, listening."

His silence tells me everything I need to know. He's considering it. I can see the war playing out behind his eyes, the conflict he doesn't want to admit is there. He's not just thinking about Matteo—he's thinking about me.

Good.

I lean in slightly, just enough to close the distance between us. "You want to protect me."

Harry tenses, but he doesn't deny it. He can't. He's already given too much away.

I lower my voice, making sure every word lands exactly where I need it to. "Then help me. Buy me some time. Tell Matteo I'm cooperating, that I'm giving you leads. Make him believe I'm still valuable."