Page 51 of His Deadly Lies

“Hey.” I snap my fingers to get her attention, her breathing shallow and her chest fluttering like a little bird’s heartbeat. “Stay with me, Princess. Stay with me. We can’t have you falling asleep yet.”

I scrub a palm over the stubble near my goatee.

Balance issues, confusion…

Mia grips her stomach and groans, curling in on herself. Maybe some kind of nausea. Definitely lowered inhibitions. I grip her face and peel her eyelids open, her pupils overly large and focused on nothing, not even when I snap my fingers again.

Vision issues.

I grab her hips to hold her steady, digging around in her pocket for her phone. There’s a text from her sister, and the message sends my stomach into a sick spiral.

What are you talking about? I have two vets pouring drinks tonight, Stefan and Rachel. No new bartender.

One drink.

Whoever that fucking kid was that made her martini had something to do with Mia’s reaction right now. My fingers curl around the cell, and it takes everything inside me not to send it soaring across the room to smash against the opposite wall. Shit.

Someone put something into her drink.

Fucking date rape drugs are out there and easy to get your hands on. Not so easily snuck into the heir of the Balestra family’s martini, but someone got through their security at the club. Just like someone has been getting into their shipments.

They got through me.

He did it in the five minutes it took me to check on Bash and return, which makes me feel like fucking shit. I shouldn't have gone. Knowing what’s been happening, I should have stayed with Mia and told her that we stick together.

Mia groans and curls in on herself in a tighter fetal position. Rocking slightly.

“It's gonna be okay. It’s all okay, Princess.”

Hatred burns a hole in my gut, and it’s only the smallest help to picture eviscerating the bartender. If I ever get my hands on him, then I am going to fuck him up. Bringing her back to Lakeside is only going to put eyes on us and her condition. It will be exploited as a weakness.

No, we need to keep this between us.

Her room is a safe space where she won’t be at further risk. I’ll stay with her until she detoxes from the substance.

“How do you know it’s going to be okay?” she pleads. Her voice is muffled by her pillow. “Carter, I might puke.”

This is way outside of my pay grade, and yet I find myself saying, “Then I’ll haul you to the bathroom.”

That fucker might still be at Meridian too.

Rather than giving in to the sensations in my sternum, ones I’m too pissed to name, I hold the phone in front of Mia’s face to unlock the screen and send off an encrypted text to Sebastian, who better get to the bottom of this quickly. Telling him to look for the bartender, along with sending him a quick description of the kid.

Nondescript.

The kind of face you skip over in a crowd because it’s the face of any average boy next door. Round chin, brown eyes, blond hair.

“I don’t feel well,” Mia whimpers.

“I know you don’t, baby, but we’re going to make it right.” And I’m going to find the kid who did this and strangle him with his own intestines as he bleeds out. I swear to fucking God. “I’m going to stay with you. Okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

I toss the phone without waiting for Sebastian to answer and help maneuver Mia closer to the side of the bed. “Hold on.”

It hurts me to see her like this. To see Mia brought to her knees with her face pale. Although even now, she is still lovely. A princess but one of the most graceful creatures I’ve ever seen. A little too unpredictable for my taste, but then again, I’m not sure I’ve ever reacted to a woman at such a primitive level before.

Too bad now is not the time for distractions.

There’s an empty glass on her nightstand, and I take it into the bathroom to grab her some water. This house is the worst kind of ostentatious, but her bedroom seems to have the least amount of fluff and gold filigree.

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