Page 30 of Unlawful Lies

“Then they will all be fired.” As soon as I get it together. It doesn’t matter what’s come before this, only that he lied to me. He lied about everything. My opinion of Edward Balestra has changed dramatically.

“What do you have in your hand?”

“Stop talking, Edward. Stop talking to me!” I can’t breathe. The house, the four walls, presses closer and closer to me. The weight of memories and an empire hardly grown, hardly gotten off the ground, and now vulnerable to attack. It’s too much.

“I’m the only one who’s going to tell you the truth. I read the newspaper?—”

“Yes, because bad news travels fast.” I rub at my wrist.

His gaze immediately drops to the area and narrows. “Did they hurt you?”

“You know what the cops are like. I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of scrapes with them. My lawyer got me out.” I shouldn't be telling him any of this. Not when he’s the one responsible.

Edward was the one who brought Daddy back here. He must have known about the person waiting in the garden, taking covert pictures of us, snapping away.

“Am I supposed to be grateful your photographer stopped at the body? I can’t even imagine what would have happened if they saw you come up to my room.”

I drop the pictures on the ground between us, and a keen sense of delight fills me when Edward has to bend and stoop to pick them up. He looks handsome enough to take my breath away. The ocean lines of his suit and the slight pinstripes are tailored to emphasize the strong lines of his body. His black hair arches over his strong foreword, those cupid bow lips pursed, and a light layer of stubble decorating his proud jaw.

“Someone watched us.” His face is blank, but his eyes darken as the gears turn in his mind.

Damn me. I bite down on my lip, needing the pain. “Nice observation, genius.”

“If you’re going to bite the hand trying to help you, let me save you the trouble. I don’t have to be here,” he reminds me.

“Then get out because I’m done dealing with you and your goddamn lies.” The curse word said out loud emboldens me.

“I can’t. I’m not leaving you alone, little fox. I?—”

“Don’t you dare tell me you care about me,” I interrupt.

“Is it so hard to believe? I want to help you. If it means dealing with this together, figuring out our next steps together, then I’ll do it.”

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

His earnest tone gets my back up. “Is that what you want to do?”

“I want to tear your head off your shoulders. I want to make you suffer for everything I’ve been through and every slide of the knife that killed my dad.” Because he did it.

He did wait and now he’s got the nerve, the balls, to look me in the eye like he’s my savior in disguise.

“If you’re going to attack me again, then let's at least move away from the breakables. Some of this shit looks really old,” he says, holding up a hand.

I’ve got to get away from him. Except Edward trails behind me, prowling like a fucking panther and following me all the way to the living room. “This isn’t a joke.”

“I didn’t say it was. Especially not when the police hauled you in for questioning.”

I growl, ducking my head to hide the expression even with him behind me. “Get the fuck out. Your lies are poison.” What will he do if I hold my hands over my ears?

“What are you going to do? Call your goons over here? They’re not going to listen.”

“You paid them.” I sink down on the wingback chair, then gulp when Edward cages me with his arms.

His face is inches from mine and my next inhale brings with it the spicy hit of his cologne. It’s a punch to the gut and worse than any pinching from the handcuffs.

“Get away from me,” I growl.

Pink scratches mar his face, healing lines where I’d attacked him the other night. I’m not sure if they’ll scar or not, but they add a roguish element to his already dangerous features.

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