16. Cian
Cian
W alking into Orson’s office, I was surprised to see it empty. Unless he was sleeping, eating, or fucking, he was always in there. The devil overseeing his own personal hellhole.
I stretched my shoulders, my muscles tired. I was exhausted—both mentally and physically.
Leaving Skylar in the early hours of the morning had been one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do.
I wanted to stay there—in that warm, comfortable bed with her—forever.
Her body wrapped around mine, her breath on my neck when I woke up from the brief respite of sleep I allowed myself, had been both perfect and terrible.
Perfect because it was her, terrible because now I knew what it was like to make her mine, to feel her. And once again, I had to leave her.
Pressing a kiss to her pouting lips, I had slipped out and felt around for my clothes, remembering to get a fresh gray shirt and leave her the one she wanted.
Otherwise, I knew I’d be getting called fuckwit again.
As I pulled the shirt over my head, light flooded the room, and I met Skylar’s wide gaze.
“ You were going to leave again without saying goodbye? Even after last night?”
The hurt in her voice was obvious, and I approached the bed, kneeling beside her. “I didn’t want to wake you, baby.”
“ I would rather you did than just leave me.”
Slipping my hand around her neck, I drew her face to mine. “I’m sorry, Kitten.” I brushed my lips over hers. “I’m new at this. Forgive me?”
“ Don’t do it again.”
I smiled at her bossy tone. “I won’t.”
Her fingers danced over my skin, and a frown marred her face as she leaned over and looked at my shoulder in the light. “Cian, your tattoo? Why is it all messed up?”
“ It’s just covered up, Kitten. Tony had a huge scar on his shoulder, and it worked to cover up my crest, in case Orson or someone else sees it. I try to wear sleeves, but you never know. It’s fine under the film.”
She grinned. “No wifebeaters for you?”
I laughed and rubbed my nose against her affectionately. “As you like to point out, I’m already pushing the Italian clichés. No wifebeaters.”
“ You think of everything.”
My laughter stopped and I became serious. “I have to. My life, Sean’s life, and now yours, is riding on this.” I swallowed the painful dryness that coated my throat. “And I have to go, baby. Sean can only cover for me for so long.”
The light in her eyes dimmed.
I kissed her cheek again. “I’ll make sure to check on you. I’ll send Sean if I can.”
“ I would rather it be you.”
I drew in a deep breath. “Only if I can—if it’s safe.”
Her “okay” was so quiet I almost didn’t hear it. I could see the glimmer of tears on the edges of her downcast eyes. I yanked her into my arms, holding her tight, breathing her in.
“ Soon, Skylar. It’ll be over soon.”
“ Come back to me, Cian.”
“ I will.” Pressing a kiss to her head, I murmured, “I love you.”
“ I love you.”
Leaning over, I grabbed my shirt. “You asked for this, I think.”
“ You saw me?”
“ Sean showed me. He checks the feed on occasion.” I wagged my finger at her, wanting to see her smile. “So, no frontal nudity, understand?”
On cue, she blushed. “I-I would never!” she stammered.
I kissed her again. “I know. But it made you smile.” I traced a finger down her cheek. “And I want you to plan that vacation, Kitten. You, me, the sun. Nothing but time and us. Naked.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“Me too.”
Our gazes locked, and silent words flowed between us. Promises of a future I prayed I would be able to give her. A life of sun and smiles. I wanted it more than I thought I possibly could.
She broke our stare and grabbed my shirt. “Be safe, Cian.”
Knowing she was being brave, I ran my finger down her cheek and nodded, unable to speak. I walked to the doorway, pausing. I turned to say goodbye, only to have her shake her head.
“ Don’t you dare say that word, Cian. I’ll see you soon. Come back to me.”
“ As fast as I can, Kitten. I promise.”
I left with a heavy feeling in my chest.
My heart was still in that room—with her.
Somehow, I knew it always would be.
“ A h, Anthony!” I suppressed a shudder at Orson’s strange singsong voice. Next to his crazed laugh, it was the creepiest thing about him. I turned to see him standing in the doorway of his trophy room, and my heart started to beat faster.
I wanted in that room.
“Orson—am I interrupting?”
“No,” he replied and smiled, more a cruel sneer than a real smile. “I was just…adding.”
I leaned against his desk, trying to appear disinterested. “Someone else anger you? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to assist you.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Rex took care of the matter. Lance is no longer with us.”
“Oh?”
He shook his head. “I found him…lacking. Such a waste.” He grinned widely. “After what you drank last night, I doubt you were up to the job anyway.”
I smirked at him, even as my stomach clenched. Another kid who got in over his head and fell into Orson’s clutches then paid the price.
“I appreciate your understanding,” I stated dryly.
He clapped his hands. “You were most entertaining with your stories, Anthony. You must tell me more one day.”
I shrugged one shoulder, knowing nothing spurred him on more than my indifference.
He turned and reentered the room. I hesitated, then followed him.
He rarely let anyone in, but I took the chance he expected me to tag along.
I glanced around the room, trying not to appear to be looking for any particular object.
Slowly, I walked around, staring, internally cataloging the items I saw.
Watches, heavy chains, charms, pens, even billfolds—different items he’d stolen as surely as he’d stolen the lives they once belonged to.
Mostly items belonging to men, but there were a few women’s possessions on the shelves.
Orson had no qualms killing either gender.
I didn’t attempt to touch anything, knowing what his angered reaction would be.
I held back a smirk at the pinkie ring Harper had worn as part of his cover—I had given it to Rex as a “gift” for Orson.
“Agent White, I presume,” I said sarcastically.
Orson nodded. Then to my surprise, he lifted the ring down and offered it to me.
My heart sped up as I took it from him, looking at it with what I hoped was a disinterested face.
As he turned away, I pressed my finger to the gold etching, hoping the tiny camera hidden inside would work.
Harper hadn’t managed to get it working before I “shot” him.
If we could get some close-ups of the room, I could try to figure out how Orson had it rigged.
Or at least get more evidence against him.
“What an inept ass,” I muttered. “He deserved that bullet.” I placed the ring back on the shelf and moved along.
As I walked past my father’s watch, I had to swallow, the urge to grab it strong.
I wanted to snatch it up, then put a bullet between Orson’s eyes, but the looming presence of Rex in the door behind me helped me remain calm.
Instead, I forced myself to study a more delicate object on the shelf beside it.
A woman’s pendant with a unique symbol embedded in it.
A symbol I recognized—Tony’s journals were all embossed with that symbol.
“This is unusual.”
He stood beside me, stroking the pendant with his finger. “A woman,” he murmured.
“Fell out of favor?”
“She had the audacity to think she knew me better than I know myself. Thought I’d be a better man with her in my life. She even got pregnant—although I wasn’t certain it was mine.”
“So, you killed her?”
“No, I did the one thing I knew she couldn’t handle.”
“Which was?”
“I forgot her. Eliminated her from my mind and life, as if she never existed.”
“And?”
“She saved me the trouble and killed herself. I knew she would. Far easier than a hit.” He glanced at me, not a trace of emotion on his face. “I took it off her neck myself as a reminder never to trust—even a pretty face.”
I felt a sliver of ice run down my spine. Nonchalantly, I slipped my hand into my pocket, palming the small button I carried at all times in case of an emergency. It was undetectable, and if I pressed it, Sean would appear and handle either the aftermath or join me in a fight.
“Are you trying to tell me something, Orson?” I asked, keeping my voice calm and low.
“I have a confession. Rex suggested to me you were the one causing me so many problems.”
My finger hovered over the button, my mind racing. “I see. And you agree with his statement? You think I’m fucking with you?”
He waved his hand. “I admit, I gave it some thought.”
I drew myself up to my full height. “And your decision?”
He clapped his hands, his odd laugh echoing loudly in the room filled with pieces of stolen memories.
“Look at your face! If I were one of your victims, I’d know my life was about to end.
Murderous. Perfectly murderous.” He reached over, his cold fingers gripping my arm.
“His thoughts weren’t without merit, except for one thing. ”
“Which is?”
“ I’m the one who brought you in. I’m the one who made the decision to have you with us. My problems began before you were here. You found the mole and eliminated him. You have stopped some of the problems that keep cropping up.”
Just as I thought—his ego was overriding his common sense.
“I haven’t figured out who planted him, though.”
Or if they’re working for or against me.
“But I think you will.”
My finger relaxed, and I pulled my hand from my pocket, crossing my arms. “I will.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“I’m sure you are.”
W hen I was back in my room, Sean came in, arching an eyebrow at me. “How’s the head, Tony?”
“Fine.”
“You’re feeling all right?”
I knew what he was asking. He knew exactly where I had been. “Everything’s good.” I arched my eyebrow back at him. “Everything is in working order.”
“Good to hear.” Then he grinned. “You put on quite the show last night.”
I sat down, leaning back and going into full Tony mode.
I ranted about the mole. The inability of finding out who planted him.
Cursed and swore I’d find the person. Ordered Carlo to dig more.
He grinned as he opened two laptops, one they couldn’t see, and started typing.
They’d see him comparing dates, shipments, files.
What he was really doing was checking on the camera, planting the next bug, and siphoning off some more of Orson’s money.
We had agreed last night, as he helped me escape for a few hours, it was go time.
We were turning up the heat over the next few days.
Money, drugs, and people were all going to disappear—and Orson was going to be so angry, he was going to make a mistake.
As he melted down, I was going to take control.
Then he would die…and my life could begin.