Page 53 of Disguised as Love

Now, it was in front of me all over again. Brutal and cold. The Malik I didn’t know was before me again, instead of the brother who’d slid his way across the ballroom at the palace on sock-clad feet like Tom Cruise in Risky Business. That brother had been full of joy and passion. This one acted as if he didn’t know what those feelings were.

“Why did she let you live?” Malik demanded of his so-called friend.

“How the fuck do I know?”

“What did she say?” Malik pushed more.

“Nothing. Not one damn word. She stuck the knife at my throat, cut it, and then stopped. She stared at me for a long time and then just turned and walked out.”

It seemed ridiculous to think that an assassin had walked in, almost killed him, and then left without saying a word. I wondered what he’d bargained with, and if I was wondering it, I knew Cruz and Malik were as well.

“Where were you?” Cruz demanded.

Yano’s face turned furious. “You do not get to question me! You’re nothing but a low-level shitbag shagging the princess in hopes of getting his hand in the cookie jar.”

I bristled and stepped into the fray. “You know nothing about Antonne. You have no idea what he’s lived through and done to be here.”

Cruz’s eyes grew wide, nostrils flaring as I defended him.

“Stay out of this, ‘Isa,” Malik said. “Take your boyfriend, go to the bar, and watch the damn bridges while I handle it.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re not my boss, Malik. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Malik ignored me, leveling his gaze with Cruz instead.

“Get her out of here,” he commanded.

And to my utter astonishment and frustration, Cruz Malone did as he was bid. He picked me up, slung me over his shoulder, and carried me out of the room and down the hall, having no idea where he was going.

“Put me the fuck down!” I yelled, pounding on his back.

“Where’s your room?” he growled.

I said nothing.

Cruz opened the first door he came to and stepped inside. It was a library Papa had used as an office whenever he stayed in town. Masculine, full of dark wood and deep greens twined with burgundy and gold tartan. Cruz dropped me into a wingback leather chair, and I was instantly up and heading for the door. He easily blocked it.

I stomped my foot and glowered up at him.

“Let me by,” I demanded.

“So you can put yourself in front of more guns? Absolutely not,” he said with a growl that made me pause.

“Why do you even care?”

My words stung him. I saw it in the look that hit his eyes before he hid it behind his normally impassive face.

“I promised you, you’d get back to the States in one piece, and I always keep my promises.”

“Your bosses go back on their word all the time! I won’t stay in this room while my brother gets himself killed or kills someone!” I yelled, and then I pushed at him, trying to shove him to the side and getting more and more frustrated at the uselessness of my body.

He finally sighed and grabbed my wrists, yanking my body up tight against his. I hated that my body filled with sweet heat at the powerful move.

“They aren’t going to kill each other. They’re in too deep. They have plans to finish executing.”

“What plans?!”

Cruz looked around the room and shook his head. He wouldn’t talk here. I wasn’t sure he’d ever tell me everything he knew, and that frustrated me even more.

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