Page 88 of Lovely Venom
Shane leans back. “No offense to your love life, Connor, but a one-night stand who used to be DEA, who then showed up at the governor’s campaign fundraiser, and again at The Sterling exhibit are too many blinking lights for me to ignore.”
A smirk tugs at my lips. “I think you doubt my fucking abilities. She clearly wants more of my cock.”
That’s not a lie.
“I heard her from the courtyard in June,” Rhys says wryly. “No one is questioning your manhood.”
“Her DNA report revealed a few alarming details,” Shane says and clicks on the monitor above his desk. “And I did some hacking to confirm the rest.”
I stare at the screen, which shows a report. A garble of paragraphs and a few blacked-out lines from the lab Shane uses. “And?”
“She has ties to the Albanians,” he deadpans.
I stiffen hearing that, and now I’m worried I played this all wrong.
“With orders to kill you,” Griffin adds calmly. When I keep my jaw still as looks are exchanged around the office, he grumbles, “You knew that part, didn’t you?”
These brats know me so well. Know that if this were breaking news, I’d be tearing this place apart in a rage.
Bracing for impact, I say, “Aye. Just not who sent her. The Albanians, huh? Doesn’t matter. I stopped her.”
“With your cock?” Shane asks in disbelief.
“Rhys just said not to question my manhood.” I fold my arms.
“What in fuck’s sake are you doing?” Griffin leans down and gets in my face. “Do you want Ma to bury another child?”
If the goal was staying alive at all costs, we chose the wrong damn profession. But Ma couldn’t survive another child’s funeral. Not after Norah.
“Let’s focus here.” I snap my fingers. “Raina is related to the Albanian crime lord? Or has ties? Talk?”
Shane’s elbows hit the desk, his wedding ring glinting off the summer sunlight streaming in from the window. “The new Albaniankyreis feeding her lies. Noel Tahiri told her Levin Berisha was her father, and it’s her duty to avenge his death.”
That nuggethits me like a ton of bricks.
“You’re fucking kidding me?” I shake my head in disbelief that in today’s day and age, the Albanians resorted to something so low-tech.
“No,” Shane answers as if it weren’t a rhetorical outburst.
“A highly skilled marksman trained by the DEA who was just fired?” Rhys says, rubbing his chin. “Doesn’t seem far-fetched.”
“Wait. It’s a lie?” I shake my head. “What’s the lie?”
“She’s notBerisha’sdaughter,” Griffin jumps in. “We had DNA on him from the attack at Luxe.”
I open the folder and study the report, scanning for inconsistencies, but it’s all there in black and white. The DNA report Shane managed to hack from the crime scene after Lennox’s nightclub attack confirms Berisha’s bloodline is not a perfect match to Raina’s.
“There’s something else interesting, though,” Shane says, tapping the page. “She’s not a match to Berisha, but there’s a familiar Albanian strain. She and her mother migrated here from neighboring Montenegro when she was an infant.”
“Let me guess.” I already know where this is going.
Shane nods. “More than likely, her mother had an affair with someone else in that brotherhood.”
“Raina Riatt issomeone’smistake,” Griffin mutters.
Anger roils through me. How dare he characterize the woman I’ve not been able to stop thinking about as a mistake.
“They’re using her as a pawn.” I get to my feet and start pacing. “Found her at her lowest point when she had nowhere to go. No one to turn to.”
