Page 157 of Lavish
“We have things to discuss.”
“You’re stalling.”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
I needed to delay till Burke could get here and get the pictures he needed. Maybe I could get him to talk, too, and really put the bastard in jail.
“You really think I’m gonna give you back that money just because youasked? No contract. No explanation. Just vibes?”
Victor’s jaw flexed. “I want the bag, Miles. You either hand it to me like a man”—his hand slid into his coat—“or I take it.”
“Don’t be fucking stupid,” I said, raising my palms.
He pulled the gun anyway. A sleek black 9 mm.
“I’m not giving you shit until you tell me the truth.”
Victor cocked his head. “The truth?”
“You’re being investigated,” I said evenly. “You were trying to hide the money with me because people were coming after you. The family of the man you killed wants justice.”
The wind shifted.
A thin thread of smoke curled behind Victor’s shoulder.
I glanced past him. Flames licked the corner of the roof.
“Is that house supposed to be on fire?”
Victor turned around, and he lowered his gun. Then he took off toward the house, gun still in hand.
“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” I shouted.
Burke needed his evidence. I couldn’t let this man go into a burning house.
The second I stepped inside, heat slammed into me like a brick wall.
Smoke curled in thick ribbons along the ceiling. Flames hissed and danced up the walls, devouring velvet curtains and licking the edge of an overturned ornate dinner table. The air was dense, heavy with heat and the sharp sting of burning wood and wine.
That’s when I saw her.
Serena.
Her hair clung to her damp neck, a sheen of sweat glistening across her skin. She was backed against the mantel, her arm raised defensively as she fought off an older woman in heels and smeared red lipstick who I remembered from the auction, one side of her face streaked with blood, rage carved into every line of her expression.
“Serena!” I shouted, voice raw over the roar of the fire.
She turned.
And in that second, the fight left her body. Shock flickered across her face, her lips parting like she’d seen a ghost.
“Miles?” she breathed.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.
But before Serena could answer, a gunshot split the room.
The sound cracked through the smoke, and we all ducked instinctively. A vase shattered behind me, spraying porcelain shards and what looked like camera pieces across the floor.
