Page 63 of Sweet Deception
Before Finn and his wife Riley got together, she was engaged to Troy. After she walked out on him, a huge merger between Red Hill and the Kings fell through. Then, more drama arose when her twin sister Harper fled an arranged marriage to Finn at the last second and her father forced Riley to secretly stand in as the bride. Somehow, Troy learned the truth about his ex walking down the aisle with another man and attempted to retaliate by showing up at Riley’s apartment and forcing his way inside. Luckily, Finn fucked him up good.
That little stunt landed Troy in the Kings’ torture unit in the basement of the Gallagher estate for a few weeks before Shane accepted a big incentive from Red Hill and released his sorry ass so he could crawl back home.
Now Troy’s back, jockeying for a position as a major power player and partnering with someone who could make him untouchable if all goes to plan.
“Obviously getting law enforcement involved would be a mistake.” I push out a heavy breath. “So, what’s the play?”
“The summit’s happening somewhere in Pennsylvania. But the exact venue is hush-hush.” More of Finn’s typing fills my ear. “If we can find out where its being held, we can come up with an infiltration plan. Five days isn’t much time, but?—”
“You, Rory, and Cian devise the plan. We’ll get the location.”
“Um, ‘we’ who?” Finn probes.
“The hackstress and I will find out where.” I hang up and stride back into the kitchen, eyes locking on Veronika.
I relay the conversation to her, but before I can finish, she sprints upstairs and comes back down with the laptop, flipping it open on the kitchen island.
Her fingers race across the keyboard as I resume my explanation, shared determination replacing any lingering wariness between us.
We’re on the same team for this, and so the energy between us has changed. I grab my plate and perch beside her.
Hours blur together as we work. The next time I glimpse up from her screen, the sun has arced all the way to the horizon and begun its final descent.
Later, I order takeout, and we eat without breaking rhythm, passing containers back and forth, shoveling food into our faces with chopsticks. All the while, her fingers fly, tracking shell companies and property records.
Veronika asks me about Red Hill and the other families involved, and I disclose anything and everything I can that might connect us to the location of this summit. I’ve never seen anyone so laser focused. Well, maybe Rory. But not like this. Not with her intensity.
I’m also…unprepared for the way our shared mission creates an unexpected intimacy. That’s what this has to be, right? This easy, warm, comfortable rapport that seems to strengthen as the minutes blend into hours…
“U menya chto-to yest,”she says, absorbed in her screen.In Russian, it means,I’ve got something.
“Chto imenno ty nashli?”What exactly did you find?My reply startles her. And I can’t help but laugh as her gray eyes continue to widen in shock.
“Govorish' po-russki?”You speak Russian?
“Nemnogo.Dostatochno chtoby vyzhit'.”A little. Enough to survive.“Business takes us to interesting places.” I shrug. “Learned from an oldbabushkain Brighton Beach.”
Finally, she picks her jaw up off the counter and returns to the screen. “My grandmother taught me.” Her voice is somehow soft and shy again. “She used to say Russian winters built stronger souls.”
The hint of longing and the cadence of her words tighten my chest.
For some reason, I tell her about how I learned to curse in Russian from some dock workers during a stakeout.
I expect that to be the end of it, but she trades me another tale from her life, her defenses seeming to lower as what sounds like all-but-forgotten memories spill out.
The way she opens up loosens something deep inside me.
I don’t know what this emotion is, but it’s foreign and unsettling as fuck.
Peace, maybe?
As the night deepens, we migrate to the couch. Veronika balances the laptop on her knees, and I sit beside her, close enough to bump shoulders. The air shifts as soon as she leans into me to point out another promising lead.
Her soft blond hair brushes my arm, and somewhere inside me, a final, fraying thread of restraint snaps.
I capture her mouth in a kiss that’s been building all day.
“Mmph—!” A little sound escapes her as I ply my mouth to hers, heat awakening every part of me in just a few seconds.
