Page 47 of Vengeful Lies

He strides toward the restaurant, and I follow, not entirely sure what to expect. Are we just here to scare some people? Trade some things? Anything is possible with Eli Monti.

A bulky man, who is definitely not a host, opens the door for us. It’s clear he’s some kind of security guard, and as I do a sweep of the room, there is no doubt in my mind that we’ve just walked into some kind of thug den. However, it is an actual restaurant. Smoke assaults my nostrils, and when I look back at our only means of escape, I realize the windows are blacked out. That explains why you can’t see in.

Eli walks straight up to the three large men sitting at a table playing poker. I trail six steps behind him, and the slight buzz of adrenaline fills me.

I hate to admit it, but Eli knows how to woo a woman.

The thrill of not knowing what we’re about to get ourselves into drives excitement and anticipation into me hard, and I beg for there to be some kind of action. Some sort of release from the mundane life I’ve become stagnant in over the last month. Well, until a certain mafia heir made it his mission to turn my world upside down.

The men playing cards look up at him, and then, just as quickly, they dismiss him, as if he isn’t one of the most powerful men in the city. From everything I’ve gathered from watching him, he is just as deadly as his father. But from the way they’re treating him, it’s as if they aren’t pleased he’s here instead of hisfather, and I have an acute sense that it has something to do with his age.

These men look well into their sixties.

“Boy, why did you come?” One of them finally addresses him, still with a lack of respect for not meeting his gaze. The old man brings a glass of golden liquid to his lips as he studies his hand of cards.

“Well, Dee, you owe money, and you’re overdue,” Eli replies.

The man named Dee huffs out a puff of smoke before putting his cigar out and finally turns to Eli.

“You’ve been coming in here for years, doing your daddy’s dirty work. And I pay, do I not?”

“You do, but you always push your limits. And, frankly, Dee, the only reason I haven’t put a bullet in your head yet is because my father asked that I don’t. But I want to make something very clear; he isn’t in charge right now.”

Dee seems amused by this as he snorts a chuckle. “What, have you hit puberty or something, boy?” Dee clicks his fingers, and two men—clearly not chefs—come out from the kitchen on the right and advance toward Eli. The two security guys who were hovering around the door move in on us from behind.

Adrenaline comes in short bursts as my heartbeat picks up speed. Holy shit, we might have a fight on our hands after all. There is a different thrill to close combat. I prefer long distance because it ensures my safety while providing the same level of satisfaction in killing someone at close range. But close-up evokes an entirely different type of high. Because my life is on the line. I wish I wasn’t into it, but it’s when I feel most alive.

“I don’t take kindly to threats in my own home,” Dee explains as his men advance on us.

Now, the other two men at the table finally give us their attention, but they don’t seem concerned, just curious about the scene currently unfolding.

The mistake the security guys make, however, is only targeting Eli. Only one them even spared me a glance, dismissing me just as quickly. It’s always the same; men don’t take me as a serious threat until it’s too late. One of the men who walked out of the kitchen raises his gun to point at Eli’s head.

“Perhaps there needs to be a change in the Monti hierarchy if you’re next in line. You need to show your elders respect. I should kill you where you stand,” Dee says casually, as if he’s offering some kind of great insight.

“But then you would make my fiancée very mad,” Eli replies, and it’s then they seem to actually take notice of me. Dee’s eyebrows dip in puzzlement, probably because of my sudden introduction and how irrelevant he most likely finds it. Again, he might find out too late his mistake of overlooking me.

“Sorry, you picked a dead man walking, sweetheart. We’ll be sure to bury you together.”

Eli looks over his shoulder at me expectantly, seemingly unfazed, with the gun to his head.

“Fucking hell, do I really have to join in?” I ask exasperatedly. I’m not above being involved with mafia business, but my father would be rolling in his grave with what’s about to happen. And, as usual, there’s always a risk to my life. That’s why my heart is pounding in my chest, and my breathing deepens as the tingles begin to shift over my body.

Target. Target. Target.

“You want your guns, don’t you?” Eli asks, smiling.

I want many things. My guns, especially. But right now, I want to walk out of here alive. My body ignites with the killer instinct that my mother always disapproved of. The part of me that I was told was unnatural and vulgar. That society would frown upon. My father encouraged it, though he tried to direct it in a military fashion. Maybe I was a disappointment to both of them. And yet, this man is coaxing it out so effortlessly. It bringsa sadistic smile to my face that I don’t entirely understand. I finally look back to the man in charge.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dee, but unfortunately, I still have use for my fiancé.” His forehead furrows in confusion before I lift my gun, and chaos explodes.

CHAPTER 24

Eli

Ihad a feeling she was lethal, but seeing her in action makes my cock hard, even when I have a gun pointed at my head. Watching the quick change in her personality is the sexiest and most powerful thing I’ve ever seen. In the blink of an eye, she goes from an unassuming female to a feral animal and she raises the gun with a sickly-sweet smile.

The moment I see her gaze light up with killer intent, I match it. With lightning speed, I grab the hand holding the gun to my head and steal the weapon, a basic maneuver that catches him by surprise. I hear the first shot go off as she takes out the man to my left and then spins to the one closest to her. He doesn’t even have time to get his gun out before he drops to the floor.

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