Page 42 of Vengeful Lies

Jewel

I’m grateful Sage was surprisingly calm about the situation and didn’t tell anyone at work about it. I’ve learned to go without friends all my life, and it wouldn’t be difficult to stay that way, but while I’m in New York I’d like to keep at least one.

I’m so used to coming in and out of people’s lives that it makes sense to not become attached. It’s six in the evening when I return home from my shift, so I decide to call the only person who is irreplaceable to me. I put it on speaker as I shuffle out of my work clothes and put on some comfy jeans and a loose tank top. I fling my bra across the room, finally free.

Craig answers on the first ring. “Lonely in the big city, kid?”

“No, I just wanted to make sure your brain hasn’t rotted from all the television you’re watching these days.” I sit on my bed and cross my ankles. He chuckles, and I can’t help but smile.

My room is still a mess from yesterday. The sunflowers are scattered about, and the ring box glares at me from the corner of the room. I should probably pick both up. “I just got myself into a predicament,” I admit as I start biting the skin around my nails, an old habit I tried to kick but can’t seem to do. Especially lately.

“Hopefully not boy trouble.” He laughs, and I stay silent. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “Boy trouble is the worst.” I roll my eyes. But “boy trouble” doesn’t seem to define what’s going on between me and Eli.

“His name?” Craig asks, and I can just imagine him walking over to his computer now, ready to search for everything he can on the man. But I have a feeling Craig won’t have to do much research. I feel the weight of his name on my tongue. I’m nervous to say it out loud because it’s as if I’m admitting to how much shit I’ve gotten myself into.

Last night, I was tipsy. Now I’m sober. The last forty-eight hours have been a whirlwind, and I can’t help but feel I’m being further backed into a cage.

“Eli Monti,” I finally say.

His breathing pauses.

“Jewel,” he growls out.

“I know.”

“He’s your target. Why are you involved with your target? You know better than that.”

“He stole my guns,” I say the words in a rush because he’s the only person in the world I can trust to have my back no matter what. He’s the only other person who knows how important those guns are to me.

“How did he get hold of your guns? Did he find out you were hired to kill him and is blackmailing you to turn on your client or something?” He sighs. “You got messy on this one. Why didn’t you just take the shot when you had the chance?”

I haven’t told Craig the full story about what the client requested—that I toy with Eli and gather information about his family. I’m barely floating through the situations Eli drags me through, let alone having the time to think how the fuck I’m going to get out of this mess.

“That’s not all,” I say, swallowing and glancing back over to the ring box that I haven’t yet opened. The moment I say the next words, I know it’ll be set in stone. That I’m royally fucked. “I’m engaged to Eli Monti.”

I hear something drop, and know he’s already pacing the room. I bite the skin surrounding my nails, holding my breath. I know his mind is working busily, just like mine, but I haven’t had time to fucking think. Eli Monti is all-consuming.

“How? How can you be engaged to this man?”

“He stole my guns, and in order to get them back, he wants a contract where I marry him. He’ll pay me as well… fifty million dollars.”

“Fucking hell, Jewel, you should have put the bullet in his head the minute he discovered your identity. Fifty million isn’t a small amount, but is it really worth marrying into a mafia family? And you’ll have a target on your back for reneging on your client’s terms. It’ll ruin your career. Just kill the fucker and forget about the guns. I have one of your father’s guns here. I’ll let you have that.”

“It’s not his favorite one, though,” I say quietly. No, his favorite is the Barrett M82. It’s the same sniper rifle I’ve used for all my long-distance shots. Defeated, I admit, “He also stole one of the knives you gave me for my birthday last year.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the knives, Jewel. And your father wouldn’t care about his guns either. His favorite were the guns that kept you safe. Not when they’re putting you in danger.”

I wipe my eyes even though there are no tears coming out. The last time I cried was at his funeral, and I’ll be fucked if I let a man like Eli Monti push me so far into a corner to break me all over again.

I know something like my guns might seem silly to others, but they’re literally all I have. I didn’t have a happy upbringing. I had a mother who looked at me with disgust and a father whotaught me how to survive in a man’s world. And then I was left behind to make my way through that world. There is no one and nothing left for me.

Only that gun collection… and Craig.

“End it. Don’t dig yourself deeper,” Craig says carefully.

I feel tired. It’s been so long since I’ve actually made a kill shot that I miss the empowering buzz. I feel less than mortal lately, and it fucking sucks. But one thing I adamantly cannot do is let anyone else win. I’ll die with my fucking pride. I won’t back down just because Eli thinks he can take from me and control me. I roll my shoulders defiantly. No man will break me—especially not a Monti.

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