Page 38 of His Deadly Lies

“A reporter who admitted she is only newly elevated to her position,” Ricardo reminds her smoothly. “Seems to me you’re grasping at straws in an attempt to make a name for yourself. What a shame.”

He all but clucks his tongue at her in reproach.

“How about this?” I offer. “As a show of good faith against your ridiculous accusations, I’d like to show you firsthand what we do. I’ll take you on a personal tour of one of our family’s country clubs.”

Select portions of the clubs, of course.

And if she gives me any trouble, then I’ll slit her throat and be done.

“Seems more than generous to me.” Ricardo is no longer smiling but staring down Alice in a way that would make anyone feel small. It’s not working on her, however.

She seems bound and determined to tighten the noose around her neck without realizing what she’s doing. Or maybe she does realize, and she’s just batshit crazy.

Eventually, she backs down and offers me a smile. “I’d be more than happy to join you on a tour. I’ll be in touch to get it scheduled.” Alice glances at her watch and blows out a breath. “Wow. I’m sure I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ve got to get back to the office. Thank you again for everything!”

If she’s flustered, she lets none of it show. Her earlier nerves are gone.

Alice finally gets her things together and leaves. All hell breaks loose the moment we’re sure she’s off the property. Ricardo pushes off the couch, annoyance evident in every stride when he paces the length of the room.

“How the hell was she not vetted?” Mama is furious. “We only consider interviews that will make this family look good. Now we’ve got a serious problem. That girl.” She points out the door. “She is not going to back down easily. She’s got the face of a bulldog and the stubbornness of one.”

Mama reaches into the pocket of her suit jacket and pulls out a phone. No doubt calling someone to yell at them and demand answers. She really needs to look at herself in the mirror. No way I’m telling her any of it, though.

“Obviously, you’re not actually going to show her one of your clubs,” Ricardo says immediately.

Ice coats my spine at his tone.

“Might I remind you that we are merely engaged, and I have a role to play in my family. My role remains unchanged regardless of whether there is a band on my finger or not,” I tell him through teeth clenched in a grimace. “You can either accept my role or move on from me. You don’t actually dictate what I do for my family.”

“You think you’re the only one with familial obligations?” His expression remains unchanged, but his fingers clench from where his arms hang at his sides. “What role you have to play for your family is soon to impact mine on every possible level. Dear.”

He stresses the term of endearment, although it sounds like anything but.

I push up from the couch, hands at the small of my back. “If everyone will excuse me. I’ve got to prepare Meridian and the staff there for the evening. Let them know exactly what will be happening either tonight or the very near future. Something tells me to expect Miss Charfulle sooner rather than later.” I keep my smile in place in spite of Ricardo’s annoyance.

It’s impossible, however, to keep from looking at Carter. He remains expressionless, his thoughts hidden.

“If you’re planning on being on babysitting duty tonight, then I’ll expect you to be ready to leave in ten minutes.” I snap my fingers at Carter, making sure I have his attention before I head upstairs without another word.

Fucking fuming and warring with myself over the correct course of action. From somewhere else in the house, Mom is still screaming at whoever it is she called.

What the hell is wrong with Alice?

Whatever made her ask those questions? She’s painted a huge target on her back. Now, certain people might decide the best course of action would be to eliminate her, discreetly, before she becomes a threat. Yeah, I’m certain people.

Some might even argue that she’s already a threat because of the questions she’s asking.

I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt and see if this is a situation that can be smoothed over before it results in an unnecessary death. Maybe because she’s so young. She’s got the future ahead of her, and the world can use more women in it who ask questions.

Alone in my room, I shove the green dress off and kick it into a corner. Off go the heels. In place of the interview outfit, I sling on a black jumper with short sleeves and a plunging neckline and ignore the grumbling in my stomach.

What I wouldn’t give to be in my pajamas right now and a comfortable pair of slippers. Instead, I’m trading one pair of torture devices for another. At least the jumper shows off my figure and offers the general public a great look at my tits, not to mention the voluminous pants hide my thigh holster.

Men talk more when they think there’s a prize at the end. It’s a universal law of the universe.

Changed, I bypass the living room and head for the garage. Not surprised in the least to see Carter lounging by the side of my car. He bobs his head and moves to the passenger seat to open the door. Not the back seat. Not this time.

“Bodyguard and chauffeur? What kind of a resume you have,” I purr. “It’s impressive.”

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