Page 63 of SINS & Lies

Even so, I yank the door open, wresting the phone from her perfectly manicured claws. “You can’t do that!” she snaps, visibly affronted.

Glancing at the phone, I see “Caller unknown” flashing on the screen, but there’s a number. A number I recognize, but from where? Is it Andre? The press? “Who is this?” I demand, my voice sharp with suspicion.

Before I can get an answer, a long, exasperated sigh fills the line, followed by the abrupt click of the call ending. Savannah’s self-satisfied smirk only adds fuel to the fire burning inside me. “Who were you talking to?” I shout.

Savannah’s hand clamps over my mouth. “Keep your voice down,” she hisses, locking the door behind me.

“How did you get in here?”

“Shh,” she hushes me, plucking a bobby pin from her hair. “It’s not exactly a vault. I just needed some breathing space, and you were out cold. Speaking of which, if you don’t keep your voice down and Mr. D’Angelo hears you, you’re dead.”

Do I look like an idiot? It suddenly dawns on me where I’ve seen that number before.

On a business card. The one pressed into my hand by Special Agent Caleb Knox. Riley’s old roommate’s cousin. Every few weeks, he leaves a message for me to call. And every few weeks, I’ve ignored him.

I square my jaw. “I believe you mean if Enzo hears me, you’re the one in hot water. See, I’m not the one ratting him out to the Feds.”

The color drains from her high-set cheeks, her once-pleasant smile fading into oblivion. “Please. If you tell him, I’m as good as dead.”

“Then explain why Agent Knox is keeping tabs on him,” I demand.

She stares at me, confusion etched across her features. “They’re not. They’re watching you.”

“Me?” She’s lying, she has to be. “Why would anyone be watching me? I’m nobody.” She said so herself.

Her shrug is dismissive. “I don’t know. All I do know is that Enzo has you for a week.” Leaning in, she adds, “Seems like you’re on loan.”

“I’m not a library book,” I retort back. I’m not sure how much she had to drink, but none of what she says makes sense. “Yes, there was a debt, but Enzo paid it.”

She retrieves a tube of lipstick from her clutch with casual indifference. “Are you absolutely certain?” she asks, her eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror as she carefully applies the dark cherry red. “Why would he?”

As much as this woman is practically begging for an ass-kicking, her question needles my chest.

Savannah pulls a pouty face in the mirror before continuing. “I overheard Mr. D’Angelo on the phone. His uncle’s demands are just too steep. He gets one week with you, then...” her words trail off as she fixes a smudge.

“And then?” I push, my heart racing with dread and disbelief.

Her next words land like a punch to the gut, knocking all the air from my lungs. “Then, he gives you back. Like a wad of used gum, I guess.” My back hits the wall for support as panic claws its way up my spine. My mind races, replaying those words over and over again.

Then he gives me back.

A strange calm settles over me as emotions clash for control, like I’m standing in the eye of a storm. My father warned me that caving to panic or fear only drag you down faster. So I cling to the only thing that fuels me forward.

With both hands, I latch onto hate.

I despise Enzo D’Angelo for what he’s about to do—sweep me off my feet just to toss me into the depths of hell.

And what about Riley? Can I trust him to keep his word? To keep her safe?

With my father’s determination at my back, my eyes lock with Savannah’s. “Tell me everything you know.”

She sweeps her long bangs from her face. “What makes you think I know anything?”

The white mini-Birkin on the counter catches my eye. I grab it and dangle it over the toilet. “Talk, or your pet alligator gets a nice, blue bath.”

“Okay, okay.” Both hands shoot up in surrender. “I don’t know much, just that there’s something about your name.”

My name? “Kennedy?”

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