Page 89 of Sinful Lies

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A shopping machine.

Almost sixty, and still outpacing me like she’s training for the Olympics.

“After all that, we definitely deserve some coffee. Don’t you agree,dolcezza?”

I slumped into my seat, feeling like I’d been hit by a truck.

The butler handed me my caramel macchiato, and when it hit my lips, I almost moaned loud enough for the whole mansion to hear.

“Definitely,” I muttered, clutching the warm cup.

Forget the bags—this was the real treasure of the day.

“You know, after all these years working for Angelo, I still can’t figure out why you two never got together.”

I almost spat my drink out, coughing like I was choking on air, blindsided by her bluntness.

Well, Monica, maybe because your son is the reason I’m hollow inside, and I’m still working for him just to get my revenge.

“What do you mean?”

She gave a little laugh, adding sugar to her coffee, her spoon spinning like she was stirring up a magic potion. “You know exactly what I mean,dolcezza. You two would make a great pair. You’re exactly the woman he needs. Someone who won’t kiss his ass, and can keep him on his toes.”

I snorted. “Monica, I really like you, I do, but if I were dating a man like your son, I’d end up in prison or a psych ward. Just working for him is more energy than I can give.”

That, and maybe the knife I’ll eventually stick in his heart.

She shook her head, eyes narrowing as if she saw something I didn’t. “You don’t see Angelo for what he really is. Under all that brooding mess, he’s a good man,” she sighed, almost fondly. “Life forced him to become heartless at a very young age.”

And there it was.

Come on, Monica. Tell me your son’s darkest secret.

I leaned in slightly. “What do you mean, Monica?”

For a moment, I saw hesitation in her eyes—a storm of doubt, like she wasn’t sure she could trust me. But it faded just as quickly.

“No, I shouldn’t…” she trailed off, shaking her head, clearly torn.

Shit.

I slid my hand over hers. “What is it? You’re freaking me out.”

She sighed, breath shaking.

Her hands trembled so badly that she had to set her coffee cup down with a soft clink. Her eyes scanned the room, checking for anyone listening.

The other women? Gone. Off to the spa or lunch.

It was just her and me now—alone.

The perfect setup for something I was ready to hear.

“Okay,” she whispered, voice so low I had to strain to catch it. “I trust you, Jade.”

Big mistake.

I nodded slowly.