Page 13 of Corrupted Deception

Of course, Ray remained on my heels every step of the way.

We’d just stepped outside and rounded the side of the warehouse when the black Mercedes turned into the gravel lot—because fate was awesome like that. But dear Lord, I just didn’t have any more in me tonight.

Ray darted behind me, growling at the car with his chest low to the ground and his hackles up. One would likely surmise from his stance that he was getting ready, preparing to attack whatever trouble came at us.

One would most certainly be wrong.

The driver pulled up next to my Audi, close to the building’s front door.

My heart raced, and I pressed a hand against Ray’s side, silently pleading with him to stay quiet.

The driver’s side door opened, and a man stepped out.

In the darkness, I strained to see his features, but all I could make out were the faint outlines of his silhouette.

He moved with purpose, walking toward the warehouse’s front door.

My pulse quickened, and I held my breath. So long as we remained hidden, there was some chance the man would simply turn and drive away when he couldn’t get into the building.

All we had to do was stay quiet.

So, of course, what happened next was pretty much on par with this clusterfuck of a night.

Ray barked. Loud and deep, an explosive sound that rent the night. Did he charge? Did he pounce? Nope. Just one booming sound that pretty much went off like a big, flashing neon sign that read:We’re right here!

“I love you, buddy, but really?” I whispered as I withdrew my gun and flipped off the safety.

The man had already turned and was heading in our direction. He passed beneath one of the dim pot lights in the warehouse’s fascia, and he was no longer a silhouette, but a man who bore a substantial resemblance to Cielo with his tailored suit, broad frame, and perfect blond hair.

His eyes, though, they looked darker than Cielo’s, brown or hazel, maybe—it was too dark in the dim light to be sure. But this wasn’t just a Luciano man; this was one of the brothers. Matteo, the younger one, if I had to guess.

The moment he spotted us, he stopped moving.

I patted Ray’s head, then stepped aside, hoping the sight of my giant, growly friend might motivate him to get back into his car and drive his ass right on out of here.

Matteo remained in place, eyeing Ray warily.

“What the hell is that?” he asked. He took a step forward, one hand reaching toward his jacket.

“Most people call it a dog,” I replied, gripping the gun tighter.

He shook his head. “I think that’s what happens when a dog mates with a bear.”

I forced my shoulders to move up and down in a shrug. “Love is love, right? Not my place to judge.”

Despite his wariness, the corners of his lips twitched while his hand continued its slow journey toward his jacket.

“If you move that hand one more inch, though, I’ll let the love child chow down on you,” I cautioned him.

Inside, I was laughing. If he only knew what an idle threat that was.

Matteo lowered his hand, but he was still coiled tight.

If Ray lunged at him, he’d have his gun out before my dog could reach him—not that there was any chance of that happening. Ray was more of a growl-and-bark kind of dog, less of an I’m-actually-going-to-protect-you-here dog. He did the growling; I did the protecting. That was the relationship we’d worked out over the years.

And since I had a role to play here, I gripped my gun tighter, finger on the trigger now.

You can do this, Char,I pep-talked myself.It’s no big deal. Just a dangerous mafia guy here who could probably kill you a thousand different ways, that’s all.

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