Page 55 of Devious Eyes
“Spoilsport.”
“Hmm.” I chuckle a little as she eventually opens her eyes and looks at me. “But unfortunately for you, you’re not worth as much as the next guest.” She looks confused. “Unless you’re a princess too?”
She smirks. “Not quite. I did steal a bracelet from a—”
I hold my hand up, not wanting to hear any more about her drug of choice, and head for her dress. “Come on. We have more talking to do.” I throw the dress on the end of the bed and start searching for shoes. “You can get cleaned up at mine.”
“Yours?” She sounds surprised.
“Yeah. Guess you might as well see all of me.” I snort and hand her the shoes. “For what that’s worth.” She frowns and watches me put them on the bed next to her.
“I’ll need my things.”
“I’ll have them brought up from the luggage check. I’ll wait out front for you.”
* * *
Chicago passes by as we swerve the roads towards home, and I look at her on occasion, watching the way she stares at all the buildings. She seems engrossed in the place, or maybe she’s just trying to avoid the conversations we need to have.
“You know what the Cane name means at all?” I ask, ready to give her a little of myself so she can understand what’s happening. She shakes her head, still looking out of the window. “You still want to?” She turns her head at that, the quirky look I adore coming into place.
“Of course. If it’s part of you then it’s relevant to me, isn’t it?” More than she knows. “And you got all of me last night, so…”
“It’s not pretty, Gabby. I’m not the guy I was in Bora.”
“What does that mean. You’re an accountant, right?”
I sigh and pull off the freeway, accelerating us hard through the back streets so that I can get us to where I need to be for this conversation. She won’t understand until she sees it, no matter how much she’s worth herself. “Nate?”
“I work numbers, yes.” She tilts her head, expectancy making her twist in her seat to lean towards me.
“That sounds a little secretive.”
I nod as the gates come into view, both of them swinging open as the Jag approaches along the street, and then I brake before I enter and look at her. I’ve never brought a woman here before. Never cared enough to try that on for size. Whatever I might think of the place, this is home to me, somewhere I come to for an element of solace from my life. No guns. No threats.
“Everything you’re about to see is stolen, taken, or manipulated from someone.” She looks surprised as two guards walk around the front of the car, one of them nodding at me as he goes on by and stows his gun. “Cane has been one corrupt son of a bitch for a long time, Gabby. My job has been,” I snort, “still is, to counter that corruption in the eyes of the feds, make us seem lawful to the outside world.”
She stares until I feel a certain amount of guilt addling inside. I don’t know why. Guilt is never something I’ve felt before regarding my work, no matter how unethical some of the shit has been. Quinn does the really dirty work. I just orchestrate the numbers after the event.
And she’s a damn thief for Christ’s sake.
I frown.
“You’re not then? Lawful, I mean.”
“No. Not at all.” Her brow raises at the brashness of the statement as I keep staring and begin tentatively putting pressure on the accelerator. “A little more these days, but it’s still all there, haunting us.”
I gaze back, ready to turn this car around and take her somewhere other than here if she makes one comment that threatens Cane safety. She doesn’t. Not one word as she keeps frowning. So I look up the main drive and carry on into home territory for what it’s worth, wondering how the hell I’m going to explain the situation she’s found herself in. She told me just enough last night to get my concerns running rampant, my brain considering if she’s a problem for us, too, and now I need more before I can see a way forward.
If there is one.
“Dios mio,” she mumbles as we make our way through the grounds, gravel kicking off the side of the car as I steer through the maze of manicured lawns. I snort again, amused by her analysis of all of this. It’s nothing special. Certainly not worthy of Gods. Not really. It’s just a pretence of happiness, wealth proving itself to the masses. Bora’s villas were more pleasing in my mind.
Truer.
I pull up and stop outside the path to my place, car parked opposite the main house forecourt.
“That’s yours?” she asks, getting out and closing her door as she stares at the mansion. I shake my head and stare up at the main house, wondering who that place does belong to now. Mother presumably. It might be Cane’s as far as the accounts show, and Quinn’s the head of that now, but neither he nor I want it, do we?
