Page 54 of Murder & Mayhem

I perk up, straightening in my seat and peering out the window when he finally pulls off the main road onto a private lane, and we travel at a much slower speed along it for several more minutes until we approach a large, black gate. He presses a button on the steering wheel and the gates automatically part, granting us entry. I shift forward to get a good look out the front windshield. “Wow,” I murmur, gaping at the opulence in front of me.

I’m vaguely aware of him turning his head to look at me, but I can’t tear my eyes away from the Malibu-style mansion in front of me as he rolls through the gates, pulling the car up beside a set of wide, stone steps.

“Where are we?” My question is met by silence, and I expect he doesn’t plan to answer me, so when he finally responds, I’m surprised.

“My house.”

That admission finally snaps my gaze from the large, white-wood structure to his face. “You live here?”

He shrugs casually. “Not often.”

My brows scrunch in confusion, not understanding what he means, but he doesn’t give me time to ask any more questions as he pushes open his door and gets out of the car.

I hurry to follow him, forgetting my door is child-locked, so when I pull on the handle, the damn thing doesn’t open. The asshole stands on the other side of my door for a deliberately long moment, and I swear I see a slight smile lift one corner of his lips before he flattens it, only making a move to reach for the door handle when I slap my palm against the window. “Open the damn door, asshole!”

Well, I figure if he intends to kill me, I may as well get the insults out while I still can.

As soon as the lock disengages, I push against the door, shoving it open and climbing out with a scowl on my face. Before I can do anything else, Dante’s hand is around my upper arm.

“What the hell?!” I try to pull out of his grip, but he ignores me as he tugs me toward the front entrance. He maintains his tight hold on my arm as he unlocks the door, using a fancy eye scanner. “You know that’s not going to stop intruders,” I snark. Logic says I should keep my mouth shut, but speaking my mind in Dante’s presence hasn’t failed me yet, so I’m going with it. Besides, I get a kick out of knowing I must be getting on his nerves.

Deliberately slow, in a move that is clearly intended to strike fear into people’s hearts, he turns to look at me, cocking a brow. I ignore the increased thudding of my heart as I swallow and dig deep for my Reaper persona.

“All anyone has to do is cut your eye out, and voila.” I shrug casually, even as he continues to watch me, the intensity in his gaze ratcheting up a notch.

He stares at me for so long that the moment turns awkward, and I almost regret ever opening my mouth in the first place, butfinally, he responds. “They’d have to kill me first.” On that note, he yanks me into the house behind him, only letting go of my arm when he’s set the security system. Satisfied that I can’t escape, he saunters deeper into the house, and after a moment's hesitation, I follow after him. What else can I really do? I couldtryto escape, however, not only do I want answers about today, but Ineedinformation.

I stutter to a stop as I enter a large, bright, open-plan kitchen, dining, and living area. The pitched roof and glass-fronted wall running the entire length of the back of the house offer an unobstructed view across green lawns, which bleed into a sandy strand running into the ocean. I gape in stunned silence as the waves roll into the shore, lapping at the sand as the tide pulls the water in and out. It’s captivatingly beautiful.

The sound of a can being opened snaps me back to my current situation, and I reluctantly pull my gaze away from the gorgeous landscape outside as I move to sit on a barstool at the long breakfast bar separating the kitchen from the living room.

“Who was that today?” I ask, watching as Dante pours himself a glass of Coke. He’s standing in front of me, on the other side of the counter, and his gaze lifts to meet my questioning one as he sets the glass down. My brows lift in surprise as he pushes the glass my way, pouring the last of the fizzy drink into another glass for himself. I don’t immediately accept the drink, instead, waiting until he raises his own to his lips, gulping down half of it before determining he probably didn’t poison my glass.

I take a much more cautious sip, feeling strangely self-conscious with his eyes on me. “Well?” I snap after a long moment of silence, getting irritated with his continued refusal to answer any of my questions. “Who was he?”

He still doesn’t fucking answer me, but lifts his phone out of his pocket when it buzzes. That reminds me, he still has my phone. Before I can demand it back, he finally fucking speaks. “I have to go back to the city. I have one of my men coming. He’ll keep an eye on you.”

He knocks back the last of his drink before moving to the sink and rinsing out the glass. The entire time, I sit and gape at him, and it’s only when he crosses the kitchen, heading back to the hall, that I gather my wits. “Wait, what? You’re leaving? You haven’t even answered my questions!” He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even slow down as he heads toward the door. “You can’t just leave me here!” I yell, rushing after him. But he’s too far ahead of me. With his long legs, he easily makes it out the door before I catch up, and I’m left smacking my hand against the frame in frustration.Fucking asshole.

I stand there for several long moments after the sound of the car engine has disappeared, before releasing a long, exhausted sigh and turning around. I don’t even have my phone to message the guys and update them. Deciding I may as well snoop while I have some time to kill, I take my time, going from room to room as I look for anything that could tell me more about Dante, or his father, or their corrupt organization. I check every door and window I come across, but all of them are well secured, and I’m finishing up my search of the final bedroom when I hear the telltale sound of the front door being unlocked.

I rush back toward the front of the house, stopping halfway down the stairs when I spot none other than Enzo standing just inside the doorway, staring up at me with a look of surprise.

I scowl down at him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

His mouth is parted in shock, and it takes him a second before he shakes it off, snorting as he shakes his head. “Of course it’s you. I should have fucking known.”

Pulling on his tie, loosening it from around his neck, he strides toward the kitchen, and I chase after him down the stairs.

“What is that supposed to mean? What the hell is going on?” I’m getting seriously fucking sick of being left in the dark, and my wig is beginning to itch from wearing it all day. Fetching a bottle of water from the fridge, he moves to sit on one of the white sofas, and after a second, I follow, claiming the seat opposite him. Since our last meeting at the ice cream parlor, I haven't spoken to him, and I can feel all those unresolved issues hanging in the air between us.

The second my ass hits the seat, I’m in heaven. It’s so comfy. I practically sink into it. There are no lumps, and I can’t feel the box springs like I can on my sofa. I run my hand over the smooth leather material, loving how soft and clean it feels beneath my touch.Damn. Oh, how the other half lives.

Feeling Enzo’s watchful eyes on me, I straighten my spine and cross my arms, returning his inquisitive gaze with a fiery one of my own. When I cross my legs at the knee, the movement catches his attention, and his gaze dips, taking in my black skinny jeans and boots—my usual attire. Pulling my leather jacket tighter around me, I clear my throat, quirking a brow when his eyes finally lift to meet mine. At least I know how to behave around Enzo, unlike Dante. It’s easy for me to switch into Reaper mode, and my voice is perfectly void of emotion when I demand, “What the hell is going on? What am I doing here?” My thoughts regarding Enzo are far too complicated to deal with him in any other way. I don’t trust a hair on his admittedly handsome head, but he did show up at the G&T that day, even after he canceled our meeting. Presumably, to check I didn’t show up… so there’s that. All of it just leaves me feeling fucking confused. I don’t have time to sort out any of that right now, though, so the cold facade of the Reaper is what I need.

There’s a moment of thoughtful silence before he speaks up. “I don’t know. I was just told to come here.”

“By Dante?” I clarify.

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