Page 14 of Condemned By Betrayal
“Do you think I’m a genie?”
“I don’t know that, but I know you can find him.”
Logan can find anyone with the smallest scrap of information.
“I’m flattered, your majesty,” he purrs.
I hang up.
Chapter 6
Hunter
I slip back into the street the moment her head turns my way.I lean against the wall, arms crossed.
She’s finally come out after a week. Logan went to her house that same day at the assigned time, but the guards said she didn’t want to see anyone.
Later that evening, a woman came to her room. They talked for hours, then she left. I shoved her picture at Logan, and he figured out it was her therapist. The same woman has visited her daily since.
Logan jokes that meeting me sent her into a state where she needs her therapist daily, even after I told the bastard to knock it off. Her condition isn’t a joke. I’ve spent the past week trying to dig up anything on Salvario, but the man’s a ghost. He doesn’t exist for the world. There’s no record of him in any database anywhere. Even Logan couldn’t turn up a thing about him.
A dog bounds up to me, barking. I straighten. He sniffs me over and starts jumping up at me. I recognize him, it’s her dog,the silver-gray husky. I pat his head. He barks and claws at my pants and jacket. Soon after, the silver-black one comes too, and repeats the same behaviour.
“Bruno. Rosie.” Her sweet voice reaches the alley before she does. I turn my head just as she steps into it.
Her eyes meet mine, and she freezes. I know it isn’t fear she feels, like everyone else does when they look into my eyes. It’s a despair that seems to suffocate her every time she looks at me. It’s because my eyes remind her of his, I figured that out from that day.
She blinks, looks away. “I’m sorry. They must have mistaken you for someone else,” she mutters, stepping closer.
“Like you did,” I say when she reaches me.
Her eyes find mine again. I shove my hands in my pockets—keep them fisted—so I don’t act on the urge to touch her.
“You look a lot like Salvario.”
“Who is Salvario?” I don’t know if she’ll answer or not, but I still ask, even if the chance is low. Any more information about this man would be good.
“My boyfriend,” she quavers.
“Can I see him?”
She nods, then pulls out her phone and extends it to me. There’s a photo of her with a man on the wallpaper. Her arm is wrapped around his neck, her face pressed to his.
“Okay, now smile.”
“Come on, Salvario, this isn’t a smile. It looks like I’m forcing you to take the selfie.”
“But you are forcing me.”
She laughs. And that brings a smile to his face.
I blink, coming out of the paralyzing trance my mind played for itself. My brain is making up a story behind a happy photo of two people who clearly love each other in a way they can’t live without each other.
She’s shining in this photo just like I’ve seen her in my dreams, unlike how she looks now. As for this man being similar to me, I can’t find anything similar apart from his eyes and the look in them for this woman. Our foreheads, hairlines, and hair also look the same, but those could belong to countless other people. The much larger part of our faces looks different.
I hand the phone back to her. I have no interest in watching her love for another man longer than necessary. She takes it and slides it into the pocket of her purple down jacket.
“Where is he?”
