Page 93 of Say My Name

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” I glance at my sister. “Just let me know if you get anything new.”

“Will do,” he says before hanging up.

I look up and Ashley’s mouth drops open.

“Why did you say you’re fine?” Ashley asks. “Is he worried about you working at Club Greed?”

I don’t want to tell her about me staying at Devereaux’s house, so I nod and tell her yes. I know she’s worried about my safety, but this is still an investigation. “Because I am fine.”

“Are you going to infiltrate this prostitution thing?”

I nod. “Yep, I sure am.”

“How?”

I shrug. “I’ll just say I desperately need money, I guess.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she says with a shake of her head.

“I do.”

“Chloe, you need to be careful.”

“I always am.” Lies. I’ve been nothing but careless with how I’m handling things.

Chapter 27

Devereaux

“Wait,” Roman says. “She’s been staying at your house?”

“It’s only been a few days, and besides, nothing’s happened.” Not since the first night in the hot tub.

Not since she got mad at me for making my own case of trying to find the killer. Since then, I’ve followed her to my home every night, and she’s gone to her room, and me to mine.

We’re nice, saying our pleasantries, but there’s nothing more than that. I know she’s worried about me, but I can’t just sit idly by.

It’s just Roman and me in my office at Club Greed, and I don’t need him giving me shit for keeping one of my girls safe. And who knows, maybe he’s right. Maybe there’s something about Swan I can’t deny.

I just can’t quite figure it out.

“And who are you to judge? How many times have you brought home women to stay at your place?”

“Yeah, but there’s a difference. I wasn’t falling for any of them.”

“I’m not falling for her.”

He laughs, and it pisses me off.

Ledger barges through my office door, where Roman and I have been holed up since the club opened two hours ago. “I’ve got news,” he says with purpose.

Roman stands. “What is it?”

Ledger makes sure the door clicks locked behind him before he strides further into the room, his eyes raging with insanity. It’s rare that I see Ledger this worked up over anything. “The Chekov brothers were lying. They weren’t in Russia, they were here.”

“How do you know?” I ask.

“A bartender at Throwdown said there was an underground fight going down that weekend and he saw them there.”

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