Bound By Lies - Rafe Cameron

Chapter 78

Rafe's POV

I sit across from Carla Limbrey, and the tension in the room is thick enough to cut with a knife. The way she's looking at me—like I'm some puzzle piece she's trying to fit into her twisted little game—makes me uneasy. I came here for business, for a deal, but this... this feels different. There's something in her eyes, something desperate and unsettling.

"The Cross of Santo Domingo," she starts, her voice low but filled with purpose, "isn't just a relic, Rafe. It holds something far more valuable than gold or jewels. Inside the Cross, there's a shroud. A shroud with the power to heal. It could save me."

"What do you mean 'save you'?" I ask, my voice careful, not quite buying into it yet. "Heal you from what?"

Limbrey shifts, her expression hardening. "I've been dying, Rafe. I'm running out of time. No doctors, no treatments have been able to help me. But the Cross... the shroud... it's said to have healed the sick, even brought the dead back to life in some stories. It's my only chance."

She gestures down at her legs, and I remember her slow, pained gait, the crutches always nearby. She's sick, that much is obvious, but this? This is something else.

I raise an eyebrow, still not convinced. "You really believe that? That some ancient cloth inside a Cross is going to cure you?"

She nods, her eyes flashing with something almost desperate. "I don't just believe it. I know it. I've spent my life studying this, tracking it down, and I'm closer than ever. The shroud can heal any ailment. It can restore what's been lost."

For a moment, I just stare at her. She's completely serious. She actually believes that this Cross is the key to fixing whatever's wrong with her. And that's when it hits me—this isn't just about money or power for her. It's about survival.

I can't help it—I laugh. It bursts out of me before I can stop it.

"Are you serious?" I say, shaking my head. "You really think some old cloth is going to fix you? Heal you?"

Her eyes narrow, her jaw tightening as her grip on the table turns white-knuckled. "You mock what you don't understand," she hisses, her voice trembling with anger. "This isn't a fairy tale. The Cross holds the power to save lives. My life. You don't understand anything."

"Yeah," I say, still chuckling. "I do. Look, I get the whole treasure thing, but if you really think scrubbing your hands on some old cross is gonna magically heal whatever you've got going on, you're batshit crazy."

Her face turns cold, her eyes burning with fury. "You have no idea what you're talking about, Rafe. This isn't a game to me. I will do whatever it takes to find that Cross and the shroud inside it. And I will get what I need, whether you're with me or not."

I shrug, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Whatever. I'm in this for the money, so as long as I get paid, you can believe in whatever you want. Just don't expect me to start believing in magic."

Limbrey gives me a tight smile, but there's something dangerous behind her eyes. "Fine. But when the time comes, you'll understand. And you'll regret laughing."

I watch her for a moment longer, the tension in the room thick, and then I stand up, pushing the chair back. "Yeah, well, as long as the money's right, I don't care what kind of fairy tale you believe in. Deal's still on."

I turn and walk out of the room, but I can still feel her eyes on me, like a cold weight pressing down on my shoulders.

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