Page 106 of House of Lies

“Now, Cassidy.”

Myles watches us like he hasn’t seen something this entertaining for weeks, sipping casually at his wine as his eyes sparkle with amusement.

He’s such a fucking psycho. They all are.

I reach down and grab Cassidy’s ass, squeezing her so hard that she gasps and shoots onto her toes to get away from my touch. Wine sloshes over her hand and splashes down onto the marble countertop before she hastily sets down her glass.

She flicks wine off her hand, gaping up at me with shock. “What the hell?”

“My room. Now,” I growl.

She lets out a petulant, “Ugh!” and storms off, throwing me a glare over her shoulder as she wipes the wine off on my white cable-knit sweater. I swear I hear her mutter, “Asshole!” just before she disappears from sight.

But she’s out of sight and earshot, and that’s all that matters right now. I’ll address her attitude later.

In private.

“Cute and feisty,” Rich says as he ambles back toward the island. “Can see why you like her.” I can never tell when he’s being sarcastic, not with that scar pulling up the side of his mouth.

I drag out a kitchen stool and position it so my back is against the wall, and I have a clear view of the hallway leading to the bedroom. I won’t put it past any of them to slip past and go pay Cassidy a visit while the others distract me. I saw the way they looked at her—like she was a little lamb that had wandered off from the rest of the flock.

“She’s mine.”

Rich lifts his hands. “Way too high maintenance for me.”

“We have a job for you,” Myles says. I open my mouth, but his hand is already up to cut me off. “Not only will we look for Cassidy’s mommy, but this one will net you a cool five hundred kay.”

My throat goes dry.

The most Myles ever paid me for a job was a hundred thousand.

“Jesus, what the hell are they expecting for that much?”

“Thought you weren’t interested,” Smith says from his place by the window.

“I’m not.” My eyes are still on Myles as he sips at his wine, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.

“How I see it, you don’t really have a choice,” he says.

Fuck. I knew I wouldn’t like the price he’d charge for Cassidy’s favor.

“A new client, or one of your regulars?”

Troy grunts like I said something funny, and I spare him a glare before facing Myles again. He takes his time answering, toying with his wineglass, adjusting the white silk handkerchief peeking from his breast pocket.

“Myles…” I growl.

“You remember Cordelia, don’t you?”

I exhale slowly through my nose.

Shit.

“Your favorite heiress got married a few months ago,” Myles continues.

“Again,” Troy adds.

Smith stalks closer, voice low, always reading the room. “She asked for you.”

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