The Lies Keep on Coming
Dante
Imet my mother at the Laurent, in a private dining room off the main restaurant. This was where politicians, billionaire businessmen, and those who paid a premium for privacy sat.
You couldn’t reserve a table in here, and the ma?tre d’ looked like he could easily bench press a small truck without breaking a sweat.
Above us, a crystal chandelier sprinkled fragments of light around the room, and a quartet played something classical in the background. It was loud enough to be heard, but not to drown out a conversation.
Valentina, already there when I arrived, looked glamorous in a silk suit, a strand of pearls around her neck.
She sipped from a glass of wine and studied her phone.
To any outsider, you’d never guess she ran a billion-dollar crime syndicate.
The truth was, Valentina could root out a traitor, issue an order to have them taken care of, and finish a hot yoga session, all before breakfast.
She glanced up as I entered.
“Hello, mother.” I took the chair opposite.
“You look tired,” she said, before I’d even gotten comfortable.
“Thank you. It’s good to see you too,” I retorted. Problem was, she wasn’t wrong. I’d spent most of the night guarding my beautiful captive. While I knew she couldn’t escape, I wouldn’t have put it past her to surprise me in the night and smash something over my head while I slept.
So I didn’t sleep.
I worked instead. By sunrise, I’d gone through every file Nico had sent me.
Evelyn’s personal bank accounts were healthy, although she did like to shop online. She rarely took vacations and put money aside every month, filtered into a high-interest savings account. It showed she was responsible and disciplined.
Aside from the lump sum that had hit her account a week before the ambush, nothing stood out. But that was enough, wasn’t it?
One payment.
One week later, six men dead.
I already knew what was in her business accounts.
Vincent gave me quarterly reports, flagging the transactions we used for laundering.
Every few months, a fake buyer purchased a high-value painting.
The piece went straight to our vault, then later was quietly resold to a private collector.
Sometimes at a loss. Cost of doing business.
There were numerous other transactions that I didn’t understand but wasn’t worried about.
Restoration costs, reserve fees, down payments, installments.
Names and companies I didn’t recognize but wasn’t interested in.
If she’d taken a bribe or cut a deal, it would show up in her personal account. Not the gallery’s.
My mother leaned forward, her fingers idly toying with her glass. “Is it done?”
I didn’t need to ask what she meant.
Nico had informed her about the unverified payment to Evelyn’s personal account the week before the hit. Rocco would have told her he’d left Evelyn with me at the cabin. My mother was merely reading between the lines.
The intel was damning and had I not personally interrogated her and seen the fire in her eyes, I might have felt the same way.
Still, there was only one reason I’d take a traitor out to the cabin, and it wasn’t fishing. With hundreds of acres of woodland, a vast lake, and wild animals, the body would never be found.
“Well, is it?”
I gritted my teeth, hoping she wouldn’t spot the lie. “Yeah.”
She studied me for a long moment. I’d learned to lie a long time ago and was fairly good at it. Then again, I’d learned from the best.
Eventually, she nodded. “Good. Any problems?”
“Nope.” I pretended I didn’t want to talk about it. Natural, under the circumstances.
I couldn’t tell her the truth: that I had to be sure.
I’d been given orders to kill indiscriminately before, and I wasn’t going to do it again. If Evelyn was guilty, she would get what was coming to her, but I was going to make damn sure before that happened.
Problem was, Valentina wouldn’t see it the same way. Better to lie now and ask for forgiveness later than to make a mistake I had to live with for the rest of my life.
“She signed her death warrant when she sold us out to Malakov,” Valentina said. “Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“What’s the latest on the investigation?” I asked.
“Still nothing more from Marco’s cop contact.” She raised an eyebrow. “However, Nico traced the call from the landline at the gallery to a burner we now know belongs to Malakov.”
My jaw tightened. “Is he sure it was Malakov’s burner and not Mikhail Orlov’s cell?” Evelyn had already admitted to talking to Mikhail.
She gave me a strange look. “I trust Nico.”
My brother had skills, no doubt about it. He’d been trained by the best. MIT and then a vast underground network of hackers, none of whom went by their real names.
She’d lied to me.
Likely a retainer. Call Mikhail.
She’d called my fucking bluff, knowing full well I wouldn’t confirm it. Meanwhile, she’d been in direct contact with Malakov himself.
Barely knew him, my ass.
“I’ve instructed Vincent to close our buyer accounts,” my mother continued, “and to make sure nothing leads back to us. When the cops start looking into her disappearance, we have to make sure we’re invisible.”
Protect the family. That was always the priority.
I reached for my glass and took a sip. It was a good vintage, but it tasted sour on my tongue. The food came and we ate. It was delicious, as always, but I didn’t have an appetite.
I’d just told my mother I’d “taken care” of Evelyn; now I had to make good on that lie. But first, I was going to make that little vixen pay.
I pulled up outside the cabin and cut the engine. The drive from the city had riled me up and adrenaline was pumping through my body, fueling my anger.
I should have seen through her lies. I should have known she’d betrayed me, but she was so fucking good at it that I’d been blindsided.
Those guileless emerald eyes, those quivering full lips.
I dragged a hand through my hair.
Shit.
She’d even tapped into my one insecurity. Sensed that I had to be sure. And she’d played on it. Played me like a fucking fiddle.
I almost hadn’t come back here tonight. It wasn’t strictly necessary. It wasn’t like she was going anywhere. I had guys patrolling the perimeter, keeping a close eye on her. I could have simply driven through tomorrow and taken care of business.
Except here I was. A sucker for punishment.
One more night, I decided.
I’d spend one more night with her at the cabin, and then tomorrow… it would all be over. Even now, the Glock in my glove compartment was burning a hole in the dashboard.
I climbed out of my SUV. The man holding the M4 assault rifle nodded at me. It was a clean, precise, military-grade weapon, like the men themselves.
They were ex-soldiers, pulled from my old unit before it was disbanded. Disillusioned with the government, the cause, the endless politics, but still wired for war. They needed work, and I needed men who could follow orders without flinching or asking questions.
They were loyal to me, and only me.
My family might be my primary obligation, but I had contacts too. I had a network of associates that my family knew nothing about, and it had to be that way if I was to maintain any semblance of independence.
I’d learned a long time ago not to put all my eggs in one basket, be it the Marcellis or the United States government. If it all went to shit, at least I had options. I’d be okay. I was nothing if not a survivor.
I greeted one of the other men standing beside the front door. Kyle and I had been to hell and back together in Afghanistan, back in Ghost Company, and were pretty tight.
“Any problems?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Quiet as a mouse.”
I nodded, unlocked the door, and went inside.
Evelyn was sitting on the couch, reading a book. She looked younger, smaller, and more vulnerable than I remembered. There was a faraway expression on her face, but that changed the second I entered the room.
The book fell to the side as she jumped to her feet. Her wavy hair was now piled high on her head in some kind of messy updo, and when she saw me, her cheeks flushed with anger.
“How long do you intend to keep me here?” she demanded.
I wasn’t interested in placating her.
Striding up to her, I gripped her by the upper arms. “You lied to me. Again. Nobody lies to me twice and gets away with it.”
Her eyes widened. “I don’t know what you mean. I didn’t lie to you. Not even once.”
I exhaled. Incredible.
“You talked to Malakov,” I hissed. “A week before the ambush, you had an actual conversation with him. We checked.”
She stared at me. “What conversation? I told you, I don’t deal with Malakov, I deal with Mikhail.”
For fuck’s sake. “Do you think we’re stupid? I warned you we were looking into your phone records. You told Malakov when the shipment was arriving, he paid you for the intel. Then he killed my guys and stole my family’s merchandise.”
She was mouthing like a guppy, at a loss for words.
I had her backed up against the couch. “It’s all there in the phone records.”
A long moment passed, and I thought I’d finally broken her. That she’d crumple and admit the truth. Admit she’d sold us out. Instead, she put her hands on my chest and tried to push me away.
Me? I didn’t budge, just gripped her harder.
“Answer me,” I growled.
Unable to move, she stomped her foot. The woman actually stomped her foot in front of me.
“For God’s sake, you insufferable oaf. I haven’t spoken to Malakov in months.” Heat stole into her cheeks until they were bright red. Her eyes blazed and I could feel the tension in her body.
It did something to me. I felt myself start to respond, and that pissed me off even more.
Normally, I’d have a traitor in a headlock right now, begging for mercy. I’d been far too lenient with her. She didn’t have the right to talk to me this way when she was the reason I’d buried six of my guys.
I pushed her and she fell back onto the couch. Without waiting for her to catch her breath, I reared over and placed my hands either side of her, caging her in.
“How do you explain it then?”
I could see her thinking. Trying to formulate a plan.
“I can’t,” she said eventually.
That gave me pause.
“What? No more lies?” I sneered.
She gave a helpless shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you. I mean, Chloe, Vincent, and Alberto all had access to the phone at the gallery. Any one of them could have called Malakov. Although I can’t imagine why they would.”
“Can’t you?” I hissed.
She swallowed. “How do you know it’s Malakov’s number? I thought you didn’t talk.”
I snorted. “It is. Trust me.” I’d called Nico on the way here and got confirmation. “It was his burner phone.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t even know Malakov had a burner phone.”
“Of course he does,” I snapped. “He’s the Russian mob.”
She held up her hands. I was so close they were almost resting on my chest. “All I know is I had nothing to do with this. I don’t know what else to say.”
Fuck. I didn’t know either, that’s what was getting to me. I couldn’t prove she didn’t do it, just like I couldn’t prove that she did. The circumstantial evidence was mounting, but until I had concrete proof, I wasn’t pulling that trigger.
I wasn’t afraid to end her life, but I wasn’t about to do it without a damn good reason.
Not again.
“What’s your problem with Sergei anyway?” she asked. “Why are you so adamant he stole your drugs?”
“That is none of your business,” I snapped. My family’s long-standing feud with the Bratva was not something I was about to get into with someone like Evelyn Cruz.
“Are you sure you didn’t get it wrong? Sergei isn’t like that.”
“Trust me, he’s exactly like that,” I snarled. Malakov was a dangerous animal and capable of far more than just ambushing our shipment.
But we were worse.
If she knew what the Marcellis were capable of, she wouldn’t be bantering with me now. I’d been too soft, given the wrong impression of myself. Of my family.
I realized that now.
Lifting my hand, I gripped her around the throat. Not hard, but tight enough to make a point. Her skin was warm and soft under my fingers, and I saw my mistake when I had to resist the urge to caress it instead of squeeze.
It made my voice harder. “I don’t appreciate your tone. I’m doing you a fucking favor keeping you alive. You ought to remember that.”
“You abducted me, remember?” There was still a flash of defiance in her eyes. “I’m here because you’re a drug dealer with the wrong idea.”
I gritted my teeth. She was testing me. Seeing how far she could push me before I broke. If it was an attempt to get me to lose control, to reveal the cracks in my armor, it wouldn’t work.
I didn’t break.
Others had tried and failed.
Leaning in toward her, I growled, “Don’t push me, Ophelia. I won’t stand for it.”
Her pupils flared, and I felt a stupid rush of triumph. It was petty, but I liked that it riled her. I could play that game too.
“What are you going to do? Kill me?”
I fixed her with a hard stare. “If you’re guilty, yes.”
I saw the fear then. It was in the way her eyes widened and her lips parted. It was in the quick intake of breath.
I loosened my grip, but my hand still rested against her throat. I could feel her pulse racing under my thumb.
“And you’re going to be the judge of that?”
My lips curved into a thin smile. “That’s right. So you may as well fess up. You’ve got nothing to lose.”
“Fuck you, Dante Marcelli.”
Only she could make my name sound sexy, even when she was bursting with rage. I caressed her throat, my fingers applying gentle pressure. It was a possessive gesture, but for some reason I wanted to prove her wrong.
I’d seen the way her nipples had puckered underneath her top when I’d run the back of my hand over them. I knew she was attracted to me; her body gave her away.
“That can be arranged,” I murmured, instantly regretting going there. Now I was picturing her naked, splayed out on the couch for me to enjoy. Her lips were parted, much like they were now, and she moaned while I sucked on those pert nipples.
Her cheeks flushed, even though her eyes shot ice-hot flames at me.
“You wouldn’t.”
“What? Force you? Of course not.”
She snorted.
“I’d make you beg for it.”
A bitter laugh burst from her, surprising me.
“You’re delusional, you know that?”
“I assure you, that is the one thing I’m not.”
She was staring at me, trying to make me out, but I gave nothing away.
Not the heat that spread through me as I imagined her pale body beneath me, her thighs parting as I lowered myself onto her.
Not the stirring low in my groin as I thought about her moaning my name, pleading with me to take her.
Not the burst of heat I knew I’d feel the moment I entered her, burying myself deep inside.
None of that.
Instead, I released her throat and leveled her with my gaze. She looked away first. Another win.
“You’re the devil,” she whispered.
She wasn’t wrong there.
“Welcome to hell,” I muttered.