Page 88 of His Deadly Lies

He’s been lying to me this entire time.

And I can’t focus on the betrayal. Only him, him, him. Where he is and how he’s doing and why Ricardo is standing there like a patsy not telling me shit.

He holds his arms out to his side, about half a second away from shrugging. Again. “I told you, he’s fine. Why don’t you go home and let me handle things?”

If I hadn’t lost my weapons…if my father hadn’t been downstairs in the hospital lobby waiting for me to get my act together and come home…

I drop the coffee, the lid exploding off, and lunge for Ricardo. He goes wide-eyed when I grab him by the lapels of his shirt and drag him down so that we’re nose to nose.

“If you don't start talking, then I’m going to—”

“What?” he interrupts. Sounding a bit shaky. Good. “You’re going to threaten me?”

“Yeah, I am, you little fuckhead, unless you start telling me what I need to know.” My brain spirals in a dark direction. “Where is Carter? Start talking, or I’m going to shove your head through the vending machine glass and start busting into rooms.”

“I’m sure your daddy won’t take kindly to that,” Ricardo replies.

Gone is the smarmy yes man I’d come to see, both during his meetings with the families and during our interview. I have a feeling I’m staring at the real Ricardo now, without masks, without the leverage of whatever game he and his fake bodyguard had been playing.

He’s a little dead-eyed, a little tired, and clearly not willing to put up with my shit. Or my hysterics, as I’m sure he’s about a breath away from calling it.

“I’m not leaving here until I see him for myself, and my father can go to hell if he’s too impatient to see that. I’m fine if he takes you with him.” I pull Ricardo down to me further, and when I’m sure he’s off guard, I reach around to drag the gun from the back of his pants.

Only then do I put distance between us, the muzzle trained on his heart.

“Your man isn’t going to like you shooting his nephew, Princess,” Ricardo says slowly. His smile is easy but a little frayed at the edges.

“Ah, the truth comes out at last,” I reply with a drawl. “And Carter is the only one who gets to call me that.”

The halls of the hospital offer no real privacy with so many people coming and going. Then again, I don’t care who sees the gun or hears my threats. Not when I fully plan to follow through on every sick, depraved thing I know how to accomplish to make him talk.

To make him tell me where Carter has been taken.

Ricardo covers my hands with his but makes no move to pry me off. “I’m not the one who should be giving answers right now. Not when you cheated on me.”

“Cheated on you,” I snap. “You’re joking. Right?”

He stares off to the side, guilty as anything, and I have to laugh.

“None of it was real.” Carter is the real heir. No bodyguard. A powerhouse occupying a phantom role to do what? To get close to me?

I need to talk to him.

“And if none of it was real between us, then no, I didn’t cheat on you. Tell me everything, or you are going to have a serious problem.”

Ricardo lets out a sigh, and something about the sound has me loosening my hold on his shirt. “Come on.”

He presses light fingers against the small of my back to guide me down the hall toward an unoccupied room, my arm going limp at my side and the gun hidden there.

Checking to make sure we’re alone, he closes the door behind us. “Yes, okay. Fine.” He looks deflated. “I’m not the real heir to the Vittorio clan. My mom is Carter’s sister.”

I start. “How long did you guys think you’d be able to pull this off?” They look nothing alike. Except for the way they move sometimes or certain inflections when they speak. Which I attributed to the two of them spending time together. Carter working for Ricardo. Not working together.

Not…anything like reality.

“Keep this to yourself, please,” Ricardo continues. “If it gets out that I’m not who we said I am, then it jeopardizes everything. And everyone.”

My hands go to my hips. “I don’t understand. Why lie?”

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