Page 60 of Corrupted Pleasure
“Garrett will nag us all to death,” I protested. “And he might go to the police! Evidence or no evidence.”
“Garrett has a big mouth,” Juliette spat out. “I never liked him.”
I groaned. That was so not the point right now.
“Maybe we should kill him,” Ivy suggested and I rolled my eyes. We couldn’t even properly rob someone; how could we possibly kill someone right and get away with it?
Wynter’s eyes traveled over the three of us. “Forget killing. Back to the money. If we pay him the ransom, it’ll be an admission of guilt,” she reasoned. “Now he has no evidence and giving him money might give him leverage.”
Okay, as far as the reasons went, it wasn’t the craziest one I heard.
“Uncle always says never admit guilt or give others a way to hold something over your head. Unless you absolutely trust the person,” Wynter added. “I think Uncle knows.”
Juliette and Ivy nodded their heads in agreement. I was focusing on the trust comment. Did I trust Liam?
“And we don’t trust Garrett,” I agreed. “Except we left him without a home.”
“And I’m sure he has insurance, which will pay out for damages and any items he lost,” Juliette reasoned. “We should keep that money for us. We earned it.”
I scoffed softly and the three of them narrowed their eyes on me. “We didn’t exactly earn it,” I said. “We stole it.”
Though I’m earning it. Sort of.So it was earned income. Right? Just non-taxable. God, it would seem Juliette’s odd logic rubbed off.
Except, I didn’t tell the girls we got caught. There was no way in hell I could admit to what happened yesterday and that I agreed to be available at Liam’s beck and call.
“Same difference,” Juliette shrugged her slim shoulders.
“What fucking school did you go to where they teach you that stealing money is okay?” I snapped.
Wynter chuckled. “Mafia school?”
I shook my head. “Maybe I should have gone there too,” I muttered. “Though they didn’t do that great of a job with Juliette. Or you for that matter, being the niece of an Irish mobster. We must be the worst criminals on this damn planet.”
The three of them grinned at the same time. “We can learn criminal ways and become good,” Ivy chimed in.
“Back to the matter at hand,” I shifted the topic back to being criminals. “We’re not criminals. The sooner we put this behind us, the better for us all.”
“We could be criminals. The badass women that rule the world… or underworld,” Juliette retorted and I scoffed at that notion. I should have known better because Juliette liked challenges. She immediately narrowed her eyes. “Cut me some slack,” Juliette protested. “Dad and Killian kept me out of it, and I spent more time with Aunt Aisling and Wynter. I just picked up bits and pieces here and there.”
“Maybe we should start a school that would teach girls how to be the best criminals,” I muttered, semi-joking.
Their heads snapped to me with multiple gasps. Wynter’s green eyes. Ivy’s hazel ones. And Juliette’s blue ones. And all three had the same exact expression. It matched my feeling, trying to determine whether it should be a joke or a real thing.
Years later, I’d realize it was this moment that started it all. The school. Our future. And our children’s future.
CHAPTER25
Davina
“That’s not a bad idea,” Wynter muttered, her fingers drumming against the cabinet. “Actually, it’s a really good idea.”
“I was joking,” I snickered, though it wasn’t entirely true. As I lay in bed last night, it dawned on me that if I ran into the two individuals of the Italian mafia last night on my own, I would have been helpless. And I didn’t like it.
“But Wynter’s not joking,” Ivy replied, grinning like a fool. “I mean, why shouldn’t women be just as badass as men or even better? Just look at my family in Ireland. They fucking sent me away so I wouldn’t get wrapped up in their war. It never even occurred to them that maybe I could help.” Her chest and cheeks blotched with frustration, though I could see her point. “We should vote,” she suggested.
“Yes, let’s vote,” Juliette added. “About starting a school and not giving money to that prick Garrett.”
I exhaled. God, it was only three in the afternoon and I was exhausted. The possibility of receiving a demanding text from Liam to be available to meet and perform some kinky shit had me irritable and excited. It made no damn sense. My thighs clenched in anticipation, and I mentally cursed my body. Of all the men to find so devastatingly attractive, it had to be the head of the Irish mafia in New York.
