Page 127 of House of Lies

He’d met me in the lobby and asked if I wanted to go up to the roof to talk. When I hesitated, he laughed and told me there would be other people up there, so he couldn’t throw me off.

I told myself if I felt uncomfortable, I’d leave. But to be perfectly honest, I feel safer here than I had at the Devil’s Den.

He’s right—we’re not alone. There’s a guy off to one side smoking a cigarette, and a trio of people chatting loudly a few yards away. If Angelo has anything sinister planned, he’d have to contend with all these eyewitnesses.

“This is fine, thank you.” I take a sip. It’s a rich roast, slightly too dark and bitter for my taste, but I’d rather be sipping on this than drinking alcohol.

“Do you always work this late?” I ask.

“That’s what happens when you run your own business,” he says with a smile. “You never clock out.”

“I thought you and Ethan were partners.”

He’s handsome, but there’s something about him I don’t like. He doesn’t seem to like eye contact—he’s constantly looking away, or down. In this dress, I can’t really blame him for looking at my breasts, but I really wish he’d stop.

Angelo grimaces faintly. “He’s retired now. Surely he told you? Probably better.” He glances off into the distance. “Got tired of always picking up the slack.”

It’s probably the first unpleasant thing anyone has said about Ethan.

“Can you blame him?” I sound a touch too defensive, but I can’t help myself. “After what happened with his fiancé…”

Angelo chuckles, and the sound makes goosebumps rise on my arms. I take another sip of coffee, trying to ignore the feeling.

“So that’s why you’re here. You spoke to him, didn’t you?” He turns, resting an elbow on the railing and cradling his beer in his hands. “What did he say?”

“Actually, that’s not why I’m here.” I take another sip of coffee. “I want to know who you sell your gems to.”

Angelo stares at me with wide eyes and then bursts out laughing, turning away. When he looks back, his expression hardens. “You’re serious?”

I don’t know what the hell’s so funny. “Yes.”

His eyes drop to the pendant around my neck. “Why? Thinking of selling?”

I force myself not to hide the gem from his sight. “Maybe.”

He holds out his hand, palm up. “May I?”

The thought of him touching me gives me the ick. I take another sip of coffee, my gaze following the animated trio as they head for the roof’s exit.

I reluctantly set down my coffee cup on the balcony’s railing and unfasten the clasp. I’d rather not be out here alone with Angelo.

Angelo’s face lights up when I hand it to him. He places it just-so on his palm, twisting his hand so a nearby light cascades from the surface of the jewel.

“This is one of the finest opals I’ve ever seen.” He thumbs the golden chain. “Such delicate work. Easily worth a hundred thousand dollars.”

Warmth hits my cheeks.

Either Richmond was way off, or Angelo’s trying to screw me.

“That all?”

He glances up at me with a frown. “It’s not a diamond. Opals trade for around a thousand dollars per carat. This can’t be more than a hundred carats.”

“It’s prettier than a diamond,” I mutter, holding out my hand for him to give it back.

“That’s your opinion, sweetheart. Now, should I arrange a buyer for you, or what?”

I let out an annoyed huff. “Not at that price.”

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