Page 13 of Phantom Mine

When they reopen, my eyes clash with his flinty, dilated ones. Fury smolders in his gaze. My threat didn’t land on deaf ears. Whatever reason he has for not wanting me on his stage, he doesn’t seem to want me on anyone else’s either.

“Tell me your name,” he demands.

His face is like granite, issuing me a warning not to lie to him again. But revealing my real name could mean the difference between life and death for me.

“It’s… Melody.”

Melody Martinez. That’s the name I used for the fake ID and bank account Joaquín helped me get. He’d initially refused, telling me that my brother was going to kill him when he found out, but eventually he grew tired of my begging.

His jaw ticks. He says nothing for long seconds.

I start to think he might have believed me, until the hand at my throat moves. His thumb brushes across my bottom lip. The caress could be mistaken as gentle, but it feels like a threat. His words only go to underline that.

“You’re a very pretty liar,Melody.”

A hollow, cold sensation creeps over me. He must have felt my pulse jump when I lied.

I glare at him. “I’m not a liar.”

A grim smirk slashes his face. “Do you know what this place is?”

My head spins at the abrupt subject change. He’s not asking about the nightclub, he’s asking if I know what it’s a front for.

“Yes.”

A wave of sorrow washes over me, as powerful as it is unexpected. I wish I could have given the same answer a year and a half ago.

Then Adriana would still be alive.

“You say you know what this place is.” He eyes me thoughtfully. “Do you really think I’ll let a liar walk through these doors and work here?” he growls.

I inject as much truth as I can in my answer. “Listen, I don’t give a fuck what goes on around here.”True. “I need this job.”Technically true. “I need the money. So long as I get paid what I’m owed when it’s due, I have zero interest in anything else. I’m trustworthy.”Big old lie.

He twirls my hair around his hand until it’s wrapped entirely around his fist. He tugs slightly, the move less violent than when he first grabbed me, and his eyes haze over, a fresh wave of arousal sweeping through his gaze. Clearly, he likes my hair.

I note with a measure of self-loathing that I’m not unaffected by him myself.

His voice is guttural when he speaks.

“Why strip?”

I can hardly keep up with the way he bounces between topics. I’m sure that’s his intention – to keep me off balance so I’ll mess up and accidentally reveal myself.

He doesn’t know what kind of opponent he’s facing. “I told you, stripping is the family business,” I quip. “You should have seen what my grandmother could do on a pole back in her day.”

He growls, not appreciating my humorous approach. “The truth,Melody.”

“I don’t owe you any answers about my life.”

“Do you want this job or not?”

My gaze narrows on him, annoyed. “I’m starting to think only if I’m guaranteed absolutely no contact with you. Are you nearly done playing with me?”

“Almost,” he deadpans. “You haven’t asked who I am.”

I shrug. “I don’t care.”

His eyes flash.

---