Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
When something is too good to be true, trust that it fucking is. I’ve never strayed from trusting my gut about someone before. Until her. Lailani, if that’s even her real fucking name. Whoever the fuck she is, she isn’t who I thought she was.
I’ve watched the footage of her killing those three men who stormed into Carlo’s penthouse over and over again.
All this time I’ve been so fucking worried about protecting her, keeping her safe from my world, when it looks like I should have been protecting my world from her.
I left her alone with my niece. I left her alone in my home and I have no fucking idea who the fuck she is.
My fist clenches and I force myself to relax it. No one has ever got past me. How the fuck did I let this happen? How did I fall in love with someone who doesn’t fucking exist?
“You good?” Carlo asks.
“How would you be if you just found out the woman you’re dating isn’t who you thought she was?” I counter.
“I mean, if I found out she was a secret ninja assassin, I probably wouldn’t be mad.” He smiles, shrugging a shoulder when he adds, “Those skills could come in handy.”
“Asshole.” I turn my attention to the window, watching the city go past. My mind whirling with various scenarios.
What am I going to say to her? What’s the point of even asking her for the truth now? It’s not like I can believe a word that comes out of her pretty little mouth.
The drive to Emmanuel’s place seems to take forever. When we finally pull up to his door, I’m hesitant to get out of the car.
“You coming?” Carlo says from where he’s standing outside my window.
“I might kill her,” I whisper. I’m fucking fuming. She lied to me. She played me like a damn fool. I’m so spun up I can actually see myself wrapping my hands around her neck and squeezing the life out of her.
“You’re not going to kill her. Stop being dramatic. Also, my money would be on her. I saw that video too.” The asshole laughs.
I swing the car door open, slam it shut again, and reluctantly follow Carlo inside the house. He heads towards the sound of his daughter’s voice, while I head down the hall that leads to Emmanuel’s office. Two of his goons stand guard outside of it.
“Open the door,” I grunt.
“Boss is busy,” one of them says.
“Yeah, he’s about to be a whole lot fucking busier. Open the fucking door.” My voice rises along with my anger.
Before either of E’s goons can respond, the door swings open, and he glares at me. “There a reason you’re yelling in my home?”
“Yeah, there is. We need to talk.” I shove them all as I push my way inside E’s office.
“Please, do come in,” he says from behind me and clicks the door closed.
“Who is she?” I ask.
“You’ll have to be more specific.” He walks around his desk, sitting in his oversized fucking ugly-ass throne of a chair.
“Lailani, who is she?” I clarify.
“Lailani is… Lailani,” he says.
“Cut the crap, E. How do you know her and what the fuck was that shit she pulled at Carlo’s?”
“You mean saving the lives of my girlfriend and niece? That was her doing the job I pay her to do,” he tells me.
“You pay her… You planted a spy in our casinos?” What the fuck is going on? She’s been here for months, long before Evie or Jazzy turned up.
“I planted someone I trusted to protect my friends. Not a fucking spy.” His voice is calm, assertive, which is really starting to piss me off even more.
“Did Louie know?” I grunt.
“Did I know what?” Louie says from behind me. I spin around and face my best friend.
“Did you know he planted Lailani at the Royal? That she works for him?” I ask him. All these fuckers knew I’ve been seeing her, knew I’ve been trying to protect her from the dangers of our world, at the same time knowing she was part of it.
“No, I didn’t know.” Louie’s gaze falls to Emmanuel. “You planting spies?”
“Pfft, if I wanted to spy on anyone, it wouldn’t be you boring fuckers. She was there as a precaution. Protection and nothing more,” Emmanuel says.
“Protection from what?” Louie asks.
“I’m going to pretend not to be fucking offended you think we need a woman to protect us,” I scoff, falling onto the sofa.
“She’s not an ordinary woman. Lailani is the most-skilled assassin I know,” Emmanuel explains. “She’s the best of the best.”
“Were you ever going to tell me I was fucking sleeping with an assassin?” I yell.
He lifts a questioning brow. “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it fucking matters,” I groan.
“Why?” he presses.
“Because the woman I just fucking fell in love with doesn’t even exist.” I stand, walk over to the bar, and help myself to a glass of tequila. Not my usual go-to but this asshole has a taste for the shit. And right now, I’ll drink anything to take the edge off.
“You fell in love?” This comes from Louie.
“No, I thought I did. You can’t fall in love with someone who isn’t real,” I remind him. “I might as well have an imaginary girlfriend.”
“She’s real,” Emmanuel says. “And whatever you think of her, it’s not her fault. She was doing a job.”
“Oh, that makes it so much better. I’m a job.” I laugh.
“No, you she did for free, because for some fucked-up reason, she likes you.” He aims a finger at me.
“Where is she?” I ask. Maybe I need to hear this shit from her.
“Why?” Emmanuel folds his arms over his chest. “You might be my friend, Sammie. But so is she, and I won’t have you going apeshit on her because you got your feelings fucking hurt.”
“Where is she?” I repeat.
Emmanuel doesn’t answer. Instead, he sits back in his chair and raises another eyebrow. Fucker isn’t going to tell me.
“I’m not going to fucking hurt her,” I huff in frustration.
E throws his head back and laughs at me. “I would actually pay to see you try,” he says. “Last I heard, she was heading to the armory.”
I just saw her put down three fucking men without breaking a sweat, so why am I surprised she’s in the Lopez armory?
Then it clicks. She’s not just hanging out in a fucking room full of weapons. She’s there to load up on them, which means she’s planning on going out and doing something I really fucking wish she wouldn’t.
“Where exactly is this armory of yours?” I ask Emmanuel.
“Turn left, head down the stairs, hang a right, then down the stairs again. Just… take it easy on her, Sammie. I meant it when I said she actually likes you.”
I follow the instructions that lead me through the maze of a fucking house.
How long has Emmanuel even had this place?
This is the first time I’ve been here. Hell, I didn’t even know he bought a property in the city.
Makes sense. He has been spending a lot more time in Vegas.
Thanks to a certain woman who seems to be visiting just as much as he has been.
I finally make it to the armory. A huge steel door hangs ajar and I walk inside, blocking the only exit with my body. Lailani, or whoever the hell this woman is, looks up at me. She’s wearing a pair of skintight black jeans, a black V-neck shirt, and matching black combat boots.
Don’t get me wrong. She looks fucking hot. My cock is hard instantly, but this is not the woman I’ve been dating.
“Going somewhere?” I ask her, breaking the silence after my eyes have taken her in completely.
“Sammie, I…” she starts, and I quickly cut her off.
“Save your excuses. I just want to know why. You had plenty of chances to tell me who you were and you chose to lie to me instead.”
Lailani chuckles to herself. The sound humorless. “I was doing a job. And despite what you think, I didn’t like lying to you.”
“But you did lie. For months.”
“Because I’m not a fucking idiot. And I happen to like breathing. You think you can do a job for E, not uphold your end of the bargain, and live to talk about it?” She tilts her head to one side to look at me.
She’s right. She was doing a job, and Emmanuel wouldn’t think twice about ending their contract however he saw fit if she slighted him.
“For what it’s worth, it wasn’t all a lie. Everything we did was because I wanted to do it. I wanted to hang out with you. I wasn’t faking our relationship, Sammie,” she says.
“Relationship? You’re not the woman I thought I was dating. I don’t even know you.”
“You know me better than most people.” She walks towards me. “What you don’t know is that I’m good at what I do. And right now, as much as I want to hash this thing out with you, I don’t have time.”
Grabbing hold of her arm as she goes to step around me, I pull her to my chest and then spin, pushing her back up against the wall.
My lips slam down on hers, and my tongue thrusts into her mouth.
This kiss isn’t soft, like they usually are.
This is hard, rough, punishing. I want her to feel every fucking bit of torture she made me feel since finding out she lied to me.