Page 87 of Of Desire And Deception

“Nothing,” Remi snapped, balling her hands into fists. “This is about nothing.”

“Have you asked her who she let wax her pussy and pierce her clit?” I asked Madden. Remi let out a dismayed sound. I pointed to the faint redness on her wrists. “Those marks are from a very different type of restraint.”

Madden looked horrified at the implications. “What the fuck, Black?”

I kept going, driving the point home and ensuring Remi would never be a reliable source for the FBI again. “I’ve done nothing wrong. My family is innocent. If you’re looking for a crime, maybe you should look at your own people, agent.”

“You bastard!” Remi screamed, lunging at me. Her hand went to her weapon, and Madden wrapped an arm around her neck, pulling her back and twisting her gun hand behind her back.

I wanted to gut the man for touching my wife, but things were going in my favor, and I needed that to continue. So I held my hands up, playing the wounded husband.

“Remi’s been under a lot of stress lately,” I said sympathetically, folding my hands together. “Everything at work, then eloping. I think it was just too much for her to handle. I told her she should see someone, but she was afraid it would affect her position at the Bureau.”

“What the hell are you talking about, asshole?” Remi shouted, fighting against her superior’s grip.

“Sir,” an agent interrupted, leaning close. “There’s no dungeon.”

Remi’s eyes blazed with offended fury. “Impossible! I was there for weeks! I saw it all with my own eyes!”

Madden’s face fell, and he shoved Remi toward the agent. “Get her out of here. Take her home and don’t let her out of your sight. I want an agent with her until I can handle things.”

“I’m not lying!” Remi screamed, her eyes wild. The agent dragged her away as she fought him. “It’s all real! You have to believe me!”

Her cries faded as he shoved her into a nondescript vehicle, the agent following and ordering the driver to leave. When the street was quiet again, I turned to Grassi.

“Given the… unfortunate circumstances,” he began, addressing Madden, “and the lack of evidence, I expect your agents will vacate the premises and cause no further financial and emotional distress for my client. He has enough to deal with as it is.”

Madden’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “We’ll finish the search and be out of your hair.”

“Thank you for your service, agent,” I added with a solemn nod. “I’m so sorry my wife is unwell. I’ll do my best to help her recover.”

The agent turned and stalked away, waving off the reporters who had been tipped off about an impending mafia arrest. I held back a smile and thanked my lawyer for stopping by, then waited until everybody was out of Deception before walking through the building. They left papers scattered in the offices and drawers haphazardly open.

I punched in the now useless code to the basement and walked down the long hall, opening the new wooden door where the reinforced steel had been. Dark wood floors greeted me, and where my supplies were stored sat a viewing area with plush black velvet sectional and low tables. A stage took up the other half of the room, with a pole in the center. It looked exactly like the other luxury private room across the hall. Neither would ever be used for clients, but the FBI didn’t know that.

I’d beat Remi at her own game, and now she would suffer the consequences of her poor decisions. My promises were absolute. I promised Dante I’d ensure Remi left the Bureau, and she was well on her way to being fired.

I promised Remi I would never let her go. Soon, I’d remind her she was mine.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Cosimo told me he would never give me up and he would protect his family. I acted anyway, trying to deny my feelings and do the right thing.

Look where that got me. Silently sobbing into my pillow while an agent I didn’t know sat in my living room, drinking my coffee while he awaited further instructions.

My tears ran out, leaving my eyes hot and puffy, my lips dry from biting them so hard. Losing my shit in front of Cosimo and my team had been a new low in my life—utter humiliation. And the man stood there smirking as he lied like he was born to do it.

Maybe it was fate. Maybe karma. The consequences of my actions. Good guys were supposed to win, but I’d started wondering if I was really that good after all. There were things about Cosimo that felt too similar to how my mind worked.

Like the blood. I shouldn’t be hungry for his taste or eager to watch him spill a guilty man’s lifeblood on the floor. But that didn’t stop the anticipation from pulsing through my veins when I thought about it.

Or wondering what it would feel like to hold a blade as it sliced through flesh. That was wrong. Legally and morally. But if I found the person responsible for Trey’s death, I would readily find out what it meant to take a life.

I’d never killed a man in my time at the Bureau. They’d trained me to defend, to eliminate a threat. But every discharge of my weapon resulted in paperwork, and nobody wanted to do that if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.

Facing that dark desire inside me was disturbing.

I pulled myself out of bed, washing my face in the bathroom, and smoothing my short, dark hair. It was hot, in an androgynous sort of way, and I didn’t miss the longer locks. My impulsive decision didn’t make Cosimo want me any less like I’d hoped. His eyes still burned with lust through his anger, even as I threatened to shoot him.

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