Page 5 of House of Lies

“Are you asking me if I’m in the mood for dinner, followed by rape shortly after?” She laughs—a cold, bitter laugh. “I don’t know what game this is, Mattia, but playing nice doesn’t suit you. I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight, but we both know it won’t last.”

I’m rarely left speechless. I struggle to find a response, suppressing the anger simmering inside me. What the hell is she talking about? If Mattia weren’t my brother, I’d fucking torture him just for this alone. But he can still decide to be on my side. I have to tread carefully if I don’t want her to figure out something is amiss, but I’m not sure if this is a role I know how to play or want to play. This may be a similar world, but it’s not mine. Nothing is familiar. I can’t trust anyone. I don’t need her on my side. I want her. And I’ve waited for this long enough. I’ll have to make her change her mind about me, although I’m not sure how I will do that after what Mattia did. She’s too young to have her heart broken like this. Too young to bear this much pain.

“Good night, Caelia.”

She raises an eyebrow, turning away when I say nothing else. It’s been a long day. I take a minute to find my way through the house toward where Mattia’s office should be. I have to call my uncle and tell him everything is in motion. I have to tie up some loose ends. And then I’ll come up with a plan to deal with his wife. But that can wait a second longer.

I dial my cousin’s number.

“Did you fucking know?” I demand as soon as he answers.

“Hello to you, too, Kaz. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Fortunately, he isn’t standing before me at this moment. I’d be tempted to pull the trigger, family ties or not.

“Did you know that Mattia was abusing her?”

“Yeah, about that. Listen, Kaz?—”

“You fucking listen to me,” I interrupt him. “You lied to me. And you know how I feel about liars, Vanya.”

“I took a calculated risk.”

I let out a dry laugh. A calculated risk. He obviously didn’t think too much about the consequences. I close my eyes briefly, feeling a pounding migraine take hold, causing my temples to throb.

“I didn’t lie to you,” he goes on. “I simply withheld some information, knowing how you would react. Father decided it was best for you not to know. You’d have rushed the plan, and you’d have made stupid mistakes, and you know it. Kaz, listen?—”

“What the fuck were you thinking, Vanya? Are you trying to sabotage me?”

“Fuck, no! You should know better than to ask me this.”

“I thought I did. How am I supposed to do this if I wasn’t even made aware of how he treated his wife?”

“You’ll figure out a way. It wasn’t essential to the plan.”

“Since when are you the one deciding what’s essential and what isn’t?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. You’re right. But I didn’t want you to rush into this just after you got out. And you would have.”

I end the call, hurling the phone against the framed painting on the wall before me. There were so many pieces of the plan to put together. I took the information Vanya gave me for granted, passed on to him by Sevastyan. I didn’t bother to verify it, shifting my focus toward studying Mattia and training to look, talk, and walk like him. This is long overdue.

I started training to take his place when I was twenty-two. I was ready by the time I was twenty-five, but then the prison sentence came. I didn’t want to linger after I got out, so I sped up everything in one year, and now I’m here. Caelia distracted me too much, so when my uncle offered to gather information about the marriage, I thought it was best to let him do it.

But now I can’t help but wonder what other pieces of information they’ve withheld from me. It takes an entire lifetime to build trust, and then it’s gone, just like that.

CHAPTER 3

Caelia

Mattia has been acting strangely over the last two weeks. I haven’t spoken a word to him since the night he came back. I could get used to this. Deep down, I know it won’t last. The screaming and punching are due to start again any time now. There’s a knock on my door, causing me to jump out of my skin. I’m just lying in bed with a book on my lap, trying to learn some Spanish, but previous experience has taught me that anything is enough to set him off. This is how I’ve been spending all my free time: trying to learn new languages I’ll never get a chance to use and imagining places I’ll never be allowed to visit.

“Come in,” I respond, recognizing the futility of resisting him.

It’s pointless. I don’t have a lock on the door, and nothing will keep him out. If I don’t see him for extended periods of time, I sometimes forget what he looks like. I forget how his tailored suit drapes perfectly over his broad shoulders, how his hair never stays in place, and how his penetrating gray eyes cut through me. The shape of his impeccably chiseled jaw, his slightly crooked nose, as if it were broken multiple times and never properly set, the infuriating Cupid’s bow of his upper lip—it’s something I never noticed until now. Mattia stands tall, exuding an athletic build and a confident stride like a weapon. But I no longer cower as I once did.

“Have you had dinner already?”

His vocabulary is more extensive than I thought. I’ve never heard the word dinner come from his mouth.

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