My colleague looked worried.But before he could say anything, a servant's greeting drifted in from outside the door.We exchanged a glance.He quickly grabbed the remaining suits and left, posing as a delivery person from the clothing store.I walked downstairs. The servant was already gone.The only person in the living room was a young, vibrant girl fussing over Morrison.She looked vaguely like me.My heart sank.Maybe from the very beginning, Morrison had simply liked my face.It was never Celine he had loved.Morrison was drunk but still clutching her hand. "Sarah, don't leave me."The young woman, Sarah Collins, held a glass of water to his lips and said shyly, "I won't leave you."Their fingers intertwined, and the way they looked at each other was nothing but devotion.I couldn't help the ache in my chest.Four years ago, I had gone undercover as a sales associate at a jewelry store frequented by Luca Bauer, in order to arrest him for his involvement in international human tra
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