Page 2 of Sweet Lies

“And yours won’t?” she asks, moving her hands against my chest.

“Of course. She’s my sister. But I won’t let anything happen to you or Claire. I need to know what she has planned. If it comes down to it, I’ll do whatever I have to do to protect my family.”

“She’s your family.”

“Yes, but we all make choices. She made a choice when she came after us. Leaving Claire out of this, for now, is the best choice. Tell me you understand?”

Slowly she nods. “I do. I don’t agree, but I understand.” Concern marks her face.

“I’ll be back soon. Cover for me.”

Thankfully, she nods, and we go downstairs to find the others. I laugh as I look around the room—all of them, this tough group of mobsters, are wearing party hats. Claire must have threatened them or paid them off.

“Happy birthday, E!” Claire says happily, wrapping her arms around me in a hug.

“Thank you. I need to run out, but I’ll be right back.”

She quickly pulls away, looking suspicious. “Why?”

“I need to take care of something. I’ll be right back. I’ll grab more booze as well. We can party right through till tomorrow.”

The men all cheer, but Claire still appears unconvinced.

“I promise, Claire, everything is fine.”

“Fine, go. We’ll start the party without you. But if you don’t hurry back, we’ll cut the cake.”

Kissing her cheek, I nod at Lily and Alex, leaving just as my phone dings with the address. This ends today—one way or another.

* * *

Pulling into one of Andre’s many safe houses, I laugh at how normal the neighborhood is. It’s suburban heaven with painted shutters and flowerpots on the front porch. It’s a place where the neighbors leave their doors unlocked. Not the type of place I would have expected to have to contemplate killing my sister.

As I enter the house, I note there’s hardly any furniture. I’m not surprised. Andre has several safe houses, and I’m sure very few have anything inside but a bag of clothes and money. After today, this place will be on the market.

Andre steps out from behind a corner. “Elijah.”

“Where is she?”

“This way.” Andre leads me to the far room. Rebecca is tied to a chair, looking like a cat that’s just had water thrown on it. Her eyes flash as she looks at me.

“Hello, little sister,” I say, stepping forward, setting the future for us both with that simple act.

ChapterOne

REBECCA

Twelve Years Ago

The party is in full swing. Only Gatsby and Daisy are missing. Glasses of wine, spirits, beer go down quickly as the night progresses. To an outsider, it would look like we were all friends and business partners. Laughter was ringing out, smiles pasted on faces. One could almost overlook the snide comments and pointed looks.Almost. Looking closer, everyone had an angle and a side. They would bleed and kill for that side. Some for money, others for pride, and the remaining very few for love.

It was a room full of sharks and I was a very tiny fish. Not even a fish, more like a crab that wants to hide behind some rocks and be left alone. Most of the time I luck out and they ignore me. Not out of kindness, but because they see me as little use in their schemes.

No matter how expensive their suits get or how much they clean under their fingernails, they’re all killers. Blood covers this room in all the ways that matter. But on the outside, everything is perfect. The mobsters of New York are here in all their glory—one of my father’s parties to welcome in the New Year. Almost all of the Five—the mob bosses that run New York—are here tonight with a few of their men and families: Daniel Ferrari, Tony Costa, GianMarino, and my father. The only one missing is Adrian Regio’s. Not too shocking, as he never attended our events. He and my father had never gotten along.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Kim Davis—soon to be Ferrari—states, brushing my arm with her painted nails. The classic four-carat diamond rests against her finger; she wiggles it to make sure I notice, though there’s no need—I could see it from space. But it’s a sign of her power and money, something she’s very proud to be taking possession of in a few weeks. She’s marrying Daniel Ferrari’s oldest son and has yet to learn all that will truly entail. All she sees is the sparkly ring and the Bugatti.

“It’s…” I start, but she’s already moving away.

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