Page 4 of Corrupted Deception

I slipped one hand behind me, grazing down my own ass like I was on a slow glide to my pussy. At the same time, I leaned in until my tits hovered above him, keeping all his attention on them while I bypassed my pussy and headed south to the back of my garter.

My fingers wrapped around the first of two syringes I had hidden there, trembling just a little as I slid it up out of the elastic, using the tight grip to knock off the cap as I went.

I’d practiced this move at least a hundred times. It should have come as easy as breathing. But in my defense, he also should have been lying down for this, not sitting up.

Fortunately, his eyes were pretty much glued to my tits now, so he didn’t even see it coming when I slid my hand back up my ass, then shot out at the last second, jabbing the tip of the syringe straight into his carotid artery and injecting him in a flash.

“What the fuck?” he hollered as he grabbed hold of my wrist, gripping so tight, I swear I could hear my bones crunching beneath his grip.

Don’t fight. It’s almost over.

Five seconds.

Four.

He swayed.

His grip on me loosened.

Three.

Two.

One.

He flopped back on the mattress.

Phew, much better.

“What… you do?” he mumbled, fighting to form the words while he tried uselessly to get his muscles to engage.

“I’m afraid my associate was fresh out of sodium pentothal—which would have made this much easier. But what I did was inject you with succinylcholine,” I explained, ever-so-helpfully.

There was no hint of recognition in his beady eyes.

“It’s a neuromuscular blocking agent,” I went on. “You’re essentially paralyzed, Mr. Marín. As you’ve noticed, it impairs speech, and you’ll probably find it makes it difficult to breathe due to the effects on the respiratory muscles. But don’t worry, the effects are temporary.”

Potentially fatal too,a small, nagging voice reminded me… ever-so-helpfully.

We’ve been over this. It’s the only way,I nagged right back.

Daniel Marín remained motionless, but rage and hatred shone in his beady eyes.

The feeling’s mutual.

“Now that I have your attention,” I said, looking down at the man who I bet had a lot less interest in getting into my panties now and more in watching me choke on them. “What can you tell me about Cade Finley?” I asked bluntly.

There was recognition in his eyes this time, but he remained silent, glaring at me.

“Cade Finley successfully infiltrated Miguel Silva’s inner circle,” I continued. “It wasn’t until the day after Silva had a meeting withyouthat Finley’s cover was compromised. At the same time, there was a sizable deposit made into one of your offshore accounts. So, I’ll ask you again: What can you tell me about Cade Finley? Where is Silva keeping him?”

God, please have an answer. Please.

“He’s… dead.” His lips struggled to form the words, but his eyes lit up with satisfaction.

“You’re lying,” I said, shaking my head adamantly. Because that was the wrong answer. Pretty much the only unacceptable answer here. If Silva had my father stashed in the heart of Atlantis, I’d find a way to get him back. But dead? No. That wasn’t an option.

“And if you keep lying to me,” I continued, ignoring the doubts that were closing in on me like bloodthirsty hounds, “you’re going to find yourself a very poor man, Mr.Marín. Mashreq Financial Group, Helvetia Capital Holdings, Pacific Horizon International Bank,” I recited, counting them off my fingers. “I’ve located every one of your accounts. So, it’s simple: Tell me what I want to know, and you’ll remain a very rich man.”

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