Chapter 18
Sean
Breakfast over, Dante stares into his coffee mug, absently stroking Buddy while the cat purrs in his lap.
Deep in thought, his intense blue eyes settle on Lillian. “Daedalus has a team looking for connections. Any chance the scene in the bar was your father’s doing?”
“Not his style.” Thoughtful, she places the frypan in the sink, then wipes her hands on a dishtowel. “When he wants someone dead, they die… No, this is far too complex. My bet is Pearson.”
I just spent a night in jail. No more guessing. “We need evidence.”
“Agreed.” When my friend slaps the table, the cat zooms down the hall.
“Get some sleep. I’m heading back to the office.” After he gets to his feet, I thank him for bailing me out and click the latch shut behind him.
In the blessed silence, Lillian stands at the sink, her eyes all over me.
“Missed you,” she whispers.
“Missed you more.” Closing the distance, I tug her against my body in a heated kiss, then cradle her face in my hands. “Babe. I was out of line last night. Don’t be thinking I was leaving or anything. I needed a few minutes to clear my head. One drink, and I was coming home. I swear.”
“I pushed too hard. I’m sorry.” Her fingers slide through my hair.
The tightness in my chest eases until her nose wrinkles. Is she still angry? I almost hate to ask. “What’s wrong?”
Grinning, she tugs off my sweatshirt. “Shower. Now.”
“Oorah!”
In the bathroom, under her watchful eye, I check that the stitches held before covering them with a waterproof bandage.
After, our clothes scatter across the floor. Under the warm spray, she works a bar of soap into a rich lather, then caresses my face, neck, and collarbone. Standing on tiptoe, she reaches my shoulders before moving down my arms, across my back.
I grab the overhead pipe, giving her access to every inch of me. My cock jumps as her fingers slide below my navel. Letting go, I lean in for a kiss.
“Nuh-uh.” She twists her index finger. “Turn around. Back to me.”
Chuckling, I let her be the boss, but once I’ve rinsed off, I turn, inch her back to the tiles and position my tip at her core.
Her slick, wet heat sets me off.
Not trying for finesse, I drive into her. Moments later, our pace quickens. Again and again, I hit her sweet spot.
“Come with me, honey.” My balls clench, the goal line closer.
“Sean!” Screaming, she bucks when my angle changes.
As my throbbing helmet hits deep inside her, I reach between us to rub her swollen nub.
“Yes! Oh God.” One orgasmic quiver is all it takes to set me off.
“Fuuuuck. Yesss!” Releasing inside her, everything else disappears.
As we breathe, waiting for our heartrates to return to normal, she slips her feet into the tub. “Three seconds before we lose our hot water, Mr. Balls.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Snickering, I place her on the bathmat, towel us dry, then move her onto the mattress.
For the rest of the day, through the night, we sleep, make love, and eat.
When morning finally arrives, we open our laptops, determined to end the assault on our lives. We’re certain that Parkhaven Investments is laundering money, but we lack proof.
Stretching long, Lillian hands me a fresh cup of coffee. “What if Jeff torched the penthouse so he can inflate repair costs?”
“Could be.” Picturing her naked on the table, I lean back in the kitchen chair. “On the surface, it’d appear legit.”
“Exactly. He’ll jack up the cost of labor and materials… everything from the gold faucets to the marble flooring becomes another opportunity to hide millions.” My brilliant, gorgeous accountant kisses my cheek.
Sitting back down, her fingers fly over her keyboard. “All we have to do is find every high-end property they’ve renovated.”
We work until mid-afternoon, pausing when her phone chimes.
“What the…” Her body trembles as she turns the screen toward me.
Unknown: Back off. You’ve been warned.
The message disappears, replaced by a live video feed from the local senior center. Grams, wearing a purple turban, waves a small plastic figure through the candle smoke. Sitting beside her, Becks pinches her nose while trying not to laugh.
Window reflections blur the image, but not the red laser dot drifting from one woman’s chest to the other.
Fuck. “Sniper!”
“Jesus.” Lillian jabs a number. Once the ringtone stops, she shouts into the cell. “Rebecca! Get everyone down. There’s a shooter!”
Through the app’s distorted fisheye lens, seniors struggle to the floor. Those in wheelchairs roll out of view. As a bearded man in his thirties yanks on the red fire alarm, Becca closes the blinds, cutting off our view.
Seven cardiac-stopping minutes later, she returns to the phone. “What the hell is going on?”
“Tell everyone to stay put.” My volume rises over the horn, blaring in the background. “No one goes outside.”
“Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’ll have to call you back.” When Rebecca hangs up, I call Dante to bring him up to speed.
As I’m about to finish, he cuts me off. “Tell them to wait in the lobby. Mason will pick them up. You two. My office. Now. Pack a bag.”
At the door, Lillian lets out a sharp breath. “Wait. What about Buddy?”
In a tight crouch, my little pal glares down from the top of the fridge as I pour his kibble and fill his water bowl.
“We’ll call a pet service. You stay here. I’ll get the car. Don’t come out until I say so.”
Soon, she sits in the passenger seat, glancing out the back window, biting her lower lip. “We must’ve hit a nerve.”
“Agreed.” Nodding, one eye glued to the rearview mirror, I zig-zag through Queens.
At the next stoplight, a text notification pings. “It’s Dante,” Lil says. “We’re to use the south entrance.”
I don’t let down my guard until we’re parked beneath the street in the private garage.
Upstairs, we wait in a massive, bulletproof-window conference room. In less than half an hour, Grams and Becks arrive. As the women embrace, we stand nearby, coffee mugs in hand, faces grim.
Once we’re all seated, the boss steeples his fingers beneath his lips. “We think it’s best if everyone stays here for a bit, pending neutralizing the threat.”
No one agrees or disagrees, but Grams has always had problems with authority.
In the silence, I hold my breath, praying she’ll listen to logic.
Smiling, Becca plucks a chocolate chip cookie from the plate. “Does this have something to do with Dad?”
Lillian follows suit, choosing oatmeal raisin. “At first, we thought he might be linked to this one company, but he’s not.”
“Money laundering?” Becks takes a slow, seductive bite, Mace in her sights.
She chews. He sweats.
Meanwhile, Lil breaks off a piece of hers, dunking it in her coffee like a donut.
I grin—quite the show.
“Sooo…” Her younger sister shifts her gaze to Dante while drumming her fingers on the table. “Whoever threatened us is related to your investigation. Have I got that right?”
When he nods, Becks rises to her feet. “Fuck them. Take ’em down.”
Grams high-fives her. “Guess we’re staying. And don’t worry about Buddy, Lillian. One of Mr. Antinori’s nice boys will feed him and TJ, too.”
I don’t know which is more disturbing—the fact she knows an infamous criminal or that he owes her a favor.
“Now where’s my candle?” She digs through her purse. “I must do a reading.”
Before I can object, Dante shoots her a rare, dazzling smile before stepping forward. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Clark, but I need to steal these two for a bit. Mason, you come too. Bring your laptops. Leave your bags.”
Once we’ve escaped into the hall, my boss puts one foot back in the conference room. “My assistant will be in shortly to see you settled. Sit tight.”
Leaving Grams with Becca, the rest of us follow Dante to his office, where he motions to the seats. Lil and I settle onto the brown leather couch facing the coffee table. Mason claims the oversized chair on the right. Prince Charming sits to my left.
“Hey, everyone.” Looking like he just came in from the ocean, Daedalus appears on the screen mounted to the far wall. “We’ll get right to business. Lillian, can you share what you’ve found?”
Several minutes later, she logs in. Everything’s running, so she opens a spreadsheet. The columns include purchase prices, resale values, estimated renovation costs, and actual expenses.
Frowning, she clicks through a few more tabs. “I can’t prove anything yet, but as you can see, there’s the potential for millions in unaccounted-for funds. Although it could easily turn into a hundred times that.”
Daed whistles through his teeth. “Parkhaven accepts dirty cash, inflates the remodeling figures, then sells at an enormous profit. After which, they’ll bring in outside investors. Everything legit.”
“The business model resembles my father’s,” Lillian explains, “but he uses his profits for sex slaves, drugs, or weapons. He bribes politicians while donating to charities.”
“I say we focus on Pearson. He’s the key.” Daed must be reading Lil’s mind because she starts bouncing in her seat.
Eyes bright, she grips my hand. “What if I convince Jeff I broke up with Sean? Pretend I quit, yeah? I’ll beg for a job. Confess who my father is. Claim I discovered you’re still working for the Feds.”
Mace shakes his head. “Why would he believe you?”
“Because I am Liam Boyle’s daughter.” My partner shrugs. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he already figured it out. Besides, Sean only recently left the IRS. The timing fits. If I play the betrayed angry ex, he’ll bite. I know it.”
Use her as bait?
Has Lillian lost her ever-loving mind?
“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” I may have shouted, but hey, sometimes a man must be heard.
“We’ve done this before, Big Balls. Remember Johnny Defoe?” Her grin widens. “I can handle myself.”
Daedalus catches her excitement and smiles, the bastard.
“If she can locate an air-gapped computer or paper ledgers, we’d have everything we need to shut them down. Once word gets out, legitimate investors won’t touch them.”
“Let me do this. I’ll find the books, Sean. I’ll wear a camera—a wire. Your contact will have people close by. I’ll be safer than safe.”
When her determined hazel eyes lock onto mine, I’m thrown back in time. First, shielding her body as fertilizer explodes. Then walking into the ER, not knowing if she’d lived or died.
“What if he blows up another building?” My voice shakes. “Or stages another unfortunate worksite accident?”
“Can you guys excuse us for a minute?” She snatches my wrist and pulls me into the hallway, out of earshot.
Letting go, she plants her hands on her hips. “You said we need to go on the offensive. This is how we do it. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life behind a desk. If we’re going to have a future together, you have to accept all of me—including the parts you don’t like.”
“So if I say no… what? We break up?” My pulse pounds so loudly I almost don’t hear her reply.
“I said no such thing.” Her sexy mouth pouts.
“But you’re going to do it whether I agree or not.”
She nods. “I am going to spend my life stopping Parkhaven and companies like it. Whatever it takes.”
Fuck.
Hours pass. Indulging in more soul-searching than I care to admit, I call my boss back. “Dante, if this operation is happening, it’s on my terms.”