Page 38 of Lie to Me

The fucker smirks at me. “Did you really think that I wouldn’t find out about your relationship with my daughter?”

Bile crawls up my throat, but I don’t let it show.

Never let it show.

I keep my voice indifferent as I say, “I’d hoped you wouldn’t, but clearly we weren’t careful enough.”

He shakes his head. “You could have just fucked that little bitch and then moved on. But no, you had to go and what… fall for her?” He shakes his head again. “I couldn’t give two shits about her. I have my heir, so I have no use for her. But if anyone found out about the two of you? I’d have to declare war on your father, and we both know how that would end,” he grunts.

Yeah, it’d end with him six feet under. At least he can admit the truth, not many men in his position would.

I remain stoic while inwardly seething at the shit he’s saying about his daughter. About Sloane. About my fucking girl.

Showing my emotions won’t get me anywhere, so the best thing I can do is remain indifferent and hope I can figure a way out of here.

“And what do you think my father will do when he finds out you kidnapped his son?” I ask.

He barks out a laugh. “You won’t tell him. Don’t worry, you’re only tied up so you can’t get to me,” he says with a wave of his hand towards me. “You’re just here for a little…demonstration.”One of his men approaches the girl and she stares at me with wide eyes. Her cries are muffled since there’s tape across her mouth.

“Now, I know she doesn’t look exactly like my daughter, but she looks close enough. You, Marco, are going to sit there and watch as I torture this girl, and you’re going to picture my daughter as I do it. Afterwards, you’re going to break up with Sloane, never see her again, and you’ll never speak a word about what happened here tonight.”

Yeah, that ain’t gonna happen.

“I’ve already told you that I don’t care about what happens to my daughter, Mr. Romano,” he says with a grin. “And I won’t let her ruin my family’s reputation by betraying us to the fucking Italians. So if you don’t do what I ask, I’ll just have to repeat whatever I do on her.” He waves towards the girl. “And do it to Sloane.”

This fucker is threatening if I don’t break up with Sloane, he’ll kill her.

He’s fucking insane.

Most fathers would threaten to killme,not their goddamn daughter.

Yet I can tell from that maniacal glint in his eye that he means every word he says.

If I don’t do as he says, he’ll actually kill her.

Resigned to my fate, I lift my chin in acceptance and he grins triumphantly.

The girl tied to the beam squirms, pure terror in her eyes as he approaches her. I wish like hell that I could do something to help her, but I can’t even help myself right now.

My family’s rule is that we don’t harm women or children. Unfortunately, not all of the other organizations are as progressive. They still see women and children as something to be used. A bargaining chip. A way to hurt the men who care for them.

It’s the twenty-first fucking century, and these other organizations are living like we’re still in the 1800s.

They don’t care about family values, only that they have an heir so they can keep their power. They care about wealth, they care about inflicting pain, and they care about their territories. They don’t give a fuck about anyone’s lives but their own.

There’s nothing I can do but sit and watch as Cormac O’Brien slides a knife across the girl’s cheek. He murmurs something to her, too quiet for me to hear, but by the way her eyes widen and her body trembles, I know he’s having no mercy on her. He won’t make this quick, and that’s all on me.

He’ll drag this out for as long as possible, all to teach me a lesson.

I knew mine and Sloane’s relationship would start trouble, and I had accepted that, but this is too fucking far.

This is inflicting unnecessary pain, torture, and death on an innocent.

The poor girl was probably just snatched off the street, just for sharing a resemblance to Sloane.

Yet I can’t stop that small part of me from being grateful that it’s this girl in her place. Because if I had to sit and watch this happen to Sloane, I’d lose my fucking mind. There would be no coming back from that.

Bile crawls up my throat as he begins slicing into her clothing, then into her skin. As much as I try to will the images away, hisearlier words of me imagining the girl to be Sloane take root in my mind, and I can’t help but replace the girl’s face with hers.

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