Chapters (52)
- Copyright
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Acknowledgments
- Read More from the Market of Monsters Series
- More Books from HMH Teen
- About the Author
- Connect with HMH on Social Media
Alberto sneered at them both. “That won’t help. I can’t give it to you because I don’t have it.”
“Of course you do.” Nita rolled her eyes. “You’re Alberto Tácunan. It’s called Tácunan Law. It’s literally your company.”
His eyes shifted to Fabricio and then back to Nita, full of controlled rage. “I’m not Alberto Tácunan.”
Nita blinked, then stepped back. “What?”
That was not an excuse she’d foreseen.
Alberto was looking at Fabricio again, eyebrows drawn, gaze dark. “There’s only one Tácunan in this room, and if you want the passwords, you’re going to have to ask him for them.”
Nita turned around slowly to look at Fabricio.
He trembled slightly when he looked at not-Alberto, but his jaw was set and his gaze was steady as he met Nita’s eyes.
“Is it true?” Nita asked. “Have you had the password all along?”
He nodded, once, sharply. “I have.”
“And your father?”
He laughed, a small, broken sound. “My father is dead.”
Dead. Alberto Tácunan was already dead.
Nita stared at him, and then turned back to not-Alberto, his face still pulsating with rage. “Then who the hell is this?”
Thirty
NITA STARED AT FABRICIO, mind trying to process what was happening but coming up blank. Alberto Tácunan was dead. Had been dead for a while, in all likelihood. She couldn’t quite grasp what that meant for her, but she had a feeling it was very bad.
All she knew for certain was that Fabricio had tricked them somehow. All along, Nita had thought she was the one in control, the one with the prisoner, but he’d been playing her the whole time.
She’d been a fool.
Fabricio was giving her a look that was a little sheepish, a little clever, and a little sad. He almost looked guilty, but not quite. There was a layer of fear underneath it all that was genuine. Whoever this man was, Fabricio was terrified of him. But everything else? She didn’t know. He was so good at faking emotions, at playing people’s strings. She couldn’t trust what was real.
“Fabricio.” Nita’s voice went low and dangerous. She was angry at him, angry at herself, angry at their situation. “I asked you a question. Who the hell is this?”
“His name is Ricci. Martin Ricci.” Fabricio’s voice was soft and vicious, something dark and hateful creeping into his words. “And he’s the man who murdered my father and masqueraded as him for the last five years.”
Nita’s mind whirled. “How? And why?”