Page 33 of Sixth Sin

It’s not like I expected them to start wearing best friends necklaces, but this bickering is ridiculous. Not to mention counterproductive.

“To answer your question, yes,” I say, stepping between them. “Milly knows about our arrangement.” A snort erupts behind me. Gritting my teeth, I glance over my shoulder. “Did you set up the blast with the information I sent?”

Milly dips her chin toward my glass enclosed office. “Yeah. It’s choppy, but I figured you’d fill in the blanks when you got back. It’s on your laptop if you want to take a look.”

Scrubbing a hand down my face, I turn toward Angel. “Will you be all right by yourself for a few minutes?”

She rolls her eyes. “It’ll be difficult, but I think I’ll manage.”

Great. Just what I wanted. Attitude from both sides.

Once Milly and I are safely behind the thick wall of glass separating my office from the BTN bullpen, I lay into her. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

“I don’t trust her.”

“Yeah, well, she doesn’t think I’m a bottomless well of honesty, either.”

Milly is quiet for a moment, lines creasing across her forehead. “How the hell did you convince her to do this, Dom? You’re a smooth talker, and I admit you have a knack for provoking insane leaps of faith, but this…” Exhaling a worried sigh, she shakes her head. “This is next level leaping.”

Turning toward my desk, I dig through the top drawer and hold up a tiny, black plastic circle no bigger than a nickel. “I called for reinforcements.”

Milly’s mouth falls open. “Holy shit, you pulled the camera in the shower trick on her? And she bought it?”

“Hook, line, and sinker.” Smugness creeps into my voice as I picture the shock on Angel’s face as I blindsided her.

“So, you made her so afraid of what little she had, she had no choice. It was either your way—”

“Or the highway,” I finish for her, tossing the camera in the air and catching it with a smirk. “Under an overpass to be more specific. This will work, Mill. You’ll see.”

“This is a very dangerous game you’re playing, Dominic.” Sucking in a sharp breath, she shakes her head. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

I don’t respond. I know the risk. Hell, I’m gambling our lives on the skills of a failed actress who hates me. Vengeance is a fickle game that landed me in front of two guns. One more misfire could ruin everything.

“Show me what you’ve got,” I say, pushing the thought out of my head and nodding to the laptop sitting open on my desk. After keying in her password, she pulls up a document and turns it toward me. Immediately, the first thing I see is my own headline.

Alexandra Romanov Alive and Well and Living in Chula Vista.

After reading the basic skeleton web blast she prepared, I add a few minor adjustments and flashier words and step back. “There, what do you think?”

“I think you’re about to make history.”

Damn right, I am.

Grinning, I hit publish, pulling the pin on a grenade no one sees coming. Now all that’s left to do is stand back and wait for the explosion.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

I glance out of the corner of my eye to see Angel pointing an accusing finger at my ringing phone. The one I’m ignoring. The one that’s gone off every fifteen seconds for the last half hour.

“Eventually.”

“But—”

“No buts.” I didn’t want to get into this here, but I guess Angel’s crash course in fame has its own timetable. “Look, I know every self-absorbed shit in this town thinks the key to creating a buzz is to give more, but it’s just a guaranteed way to ignite fast and fizzle faster.”

“So, we’re intentionally playing hard to get?”

“First rule of Hollywood”—I hold up a finger—“is to make them wait. Dangle that carrot and then yank it back. Make them salivate so damn hard for just a taste, they’re foaming at the mouth. Mystery attracts a lot more flies than confession, rook.”

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