Page 37 of SINS & Lies

“I don’t want to do this,” I blurt out.

“Do what?” he says. “Be specific.”

“Be a conquest. Just one of a thousand one-night stands.”

He drops the cigar and completely ignores me. “Get. In.”

I knot my arms tight. Part of me wants what he’s offering. The horny part. And the part that foolishly believes he actually wants more than wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.

But the other part of me—the smart one—knows the reality of this situation. He’s leaving. He said so himself.

Then he offers me the one thing—the only thing—I can’t refuse. “You want to see your sister, don’t you?”

I do. He knows I do.

So, I get in, watching as he gets behind the wheel. His stoic features grimace the second he does. “This car needs a bleach bath.”

He pulls into traffic and his jaw tenses as he heads north. “Where are we going?” I ask.

I know he’s heard me, but he doesn’t answer right away. It’s like he’s working something out in his mind, deep in thought.

I can only take the suspense for so long, especially as we turn down a familiar street. “Where are you taking me?”

With a long sigh and a hard right at the light, he finally replies. “Your place.”

CHAPTER 13

Kennedy

My place.

After the shock wears off, his words stick to my brain like gum under a park bench. Why are we going to my place?

I mean, he’s leaving. He said so himself. With his outside voice.

Plus, he’s a super mega bazillionaire. Why can’t we go to his place? Or, at least get a hotel?

I mean, my place is a mess. And not just the normal mess.

Because my dog has separation anxiety, my apartment resembles the aftermath of a twister straight out of The Wizard of Oz. Not that it’s ever been neat as a pin. But now, whenever I’m gone, Truffles totally loses his shit and pretty much tears the place apart.

It wasn’t a problem when Riley was around. Her school summoning her back to Italy for an academic emergency—something I’ve never heard of—was nothing short of a miracle.

She’d been too engrossed in packing to notice me at all, waltzing in, clad in nothing but Enzo’s blazer and his brother’s comically large spare sneakers. Thank God, because really, what could I say under the circumstances?

Late night.

Kidnapped by thugs.

Barely escaped with my life.

Rescued by a mob boss who likely shot my captors for the hell of it.

Let this be a cautionary tale about the perils of dancing for cash.

Knowing that Riley is safe and sound and over four thousand miles away is a relief, but it leaves me with the problem at hand: Truffles.

The no-kill shelter got back to me right away. They assured me that with love, patience, and a crate, his anxiety would eventually subside.

---