Page 40 of Filthy Liar

I beg to differ but decide to switch tactics. "Why are you in my apartment?"

The man slowly stands and I stiffen, ready to protect Valerie at all costs. But he doesn't come at us. Instead, he slowly walks down the line of windows overlooking the ocean before turning to face me.

"I'm here because someone's put a hit out on that pretty new wife of yours."

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

VALERIE

WELL. SHIT.

I did not have "put a hit out on Valerie" on my bingo card. Did I expect my father to be pissed? Yes. Did I expect him to hunt me down and attempt to drag me back to Minneapolis so I could marry the man he believes will get him where he wants to go? Also yes.

But to pay money to make me dead? I didn't see that coming.

When the shock of it wears off, I'll likely throw up, but currently, the strange man leisurely walking around Fynn’s home is taking up all the panic space my brain has.

"A hit?" Fynn’s arm flexes where it's wrapped around my waist, pinning my front to his back. "On my wife?"

I peek around Fynn's broad body to catch sight of the man as he nods. "That's right."

Fynn scoffs, the sound filled with disbelief. "I'm not sure who's apartment you meant to find your way into, but I can assure you, it’s not this one." Fynn backs up, still sounding shockingly composed as he uses his free arm to motion to the door. "So I'll let you get on your way to continue breaking and entering at will."

The man doesn't budge outside of tucking one hand into the pocket of his well-tailored, light-colored suit. Fynn stills in front of me at the motion, body going tight, as if he's ready to move at the smallest provocation.

But the man only leans to one side, his attention moving to me. "Your name is Valerie Berdard, right?"

I sigh, closing my eyes because I probably should have seen this coming. "Yes." I hold tighter to the back of Fynn's jacket, even though I know he can't protect me from this. Not really. "Does that mean you're here to kill me?"

The possibility makes me sad. I'm sure eventually it will make me mad—given I have the opportunity to survive that long—but right now it just hurts. I know my family is terrible. Awful, wretched examples of human beings. But I didn't think they were eat their young bad. That's what I get for attempting to see the best in everyone, I guess.

But again, the man shakes his head. "No. I don't kill women."

I let out a slow breath, sagging a little in relief.

But Fynn doesn't relax at all. If anything he grows more tense. "Then why are you here?"

The man turns to look out over the water again. "I came for the view." He turns back to face us. "But I stayed to warn you. I figured you didn't want your wife to die on her wedding day."

Fynn’s jaw rocks from side to side as he stares the man down. "Who would do something like this?"

The man's brows lift as his gaze meets mine. "Do you want to tell him, or should I?"

For the first time Fynn's gaze leaves the man, swinging around to come my way. "What is he talking about, Valerie?"

I swallow hard. I don't want to tell him this. Somehow, in my perfect little plan, I never had to. Everything just worked out. My father would show up when he wasn't around, I could explain that I’m already married and it's too late, and everyone would go on their merry little ways.

Because I might be a tiny bit delusional. I certainly was when I thought marrying a man of my father's choosing would be anything besides what it actually was. Somehow, even after a lifetime of being surrounded by terrible people, I became an eternal optimist.

Also known as an idiot.

I rub my lips together, continuing to stall as Fynn turns to fully face me. "Who put the hit out on you, Val?"

"Well," I glance at where the man is standing, before turning back to Fynn, "it was either my father," my words stall out again and I have to force myself to continue, "or the man he tried to force me to marry."

Fynn stares at me in the darkness and I stare back, wilting a little more with each passing second.

"Well, it seems like you two have a lot to talk about, so I'm going to let myself out." The man crosses the room, pausing beside Fynn to flick out a business card. "Call me if you need any help with your little predicament." Then he's gone, silently slipping out of the door and leaving us staring at each other in the dark.

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