“Kendall,” I whispered, half in disbelief, half in fucking horror.
“You can’t save me.” No intonation in her voice, her statement was pure resignation.
I asked the only question that seemed relevant. “Who else knows?”
She shook her head. “No. No witness protection. I refused.”
It was probably the only thing that’d kept her alive. Anyone knowing where or who she was would’ve been a target. Adrenaline pumping, my pulse Mach one, I stared at her in complete fucking shock. This woman had just signed my death warrant.
My nostrils flared with an inhale. “Chica—”
“Walk away, André.”
I opened my mouth to say something I’d regret, but she beat me to it.
“You can’t stop this,” she warned. “Go back to work. Pretend you never met me. Deny everything.” She picked up her dress. “I’ll be gone before you get home.”
I ran a hand over my face. “I don’t even know what to call you.”
“If you say my real name, you’ll be dead before you utter the last syllable.”