Page 37 of Bad Blood

I glance away, aiming for anywhere other than him or at the money, which pretty much just leaves the floor. “Is it deal breaker, if Idon’ttell you?”

“I’ll get it out of you eventually, but a swift confession is preferred.”

Arrogant bastard.“Has anyone added you to the donor list for a personality transplant yet?” I say bitterly. “If not, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

His resulting smile resembles that of a cold, dead fish. “I’m not the one who dropped to the floor over a couple of casino chips… Sell your soul often?”

“At least I still have one to sell.”

His next step toward me is a threat in an expensive suit with blood stains.

“You have an unfortunate mouth on you, Thalia Santiago. One of these days it will carve your name into the side of a bullet.”

“Really,señor?” I say, losing my temper again. “All threats and no decorum make the Mexican cartel boss an even bigger piece of shit.”

He stills a couple of feet away from me—as still as a statue and as brittle as a pyre.

“Come on then, explain myinvestmentin this deal,” I say, nodding at the money.Investment. Solution. Same thing, different colors.“I’m sure nothing comes for free around here. What glorious indignity will I have to suffer for it this time? Pick the bills up with my bare teeth? Strip naked on top of them with rainbows shooting out of my ass?”

There’s the briefest tug at his mouth and then it’s gone again. The rarest of things.Now, I’m intrigued…Is there another man dancing beneath his surfaces? One who doesn’t act like a character from theGodfatherHall of Fame?

“Before you ask, I’m not giving up information about my family,” I warn, pouncing on the obvious trade-off before he has a chance to speak it.

“Who says you’d have to do anything that dramatic?” He saunters closer, but this time I stand my ground. He’s at least a foot taller than me without my heels on. Most of that is hate. “You need the money, and I need revenge,señorita. Some might say that’s a match made in hell.”

“I don’t need it that badly,” I lie, feeling a rush of impending doom.

“Oh yes, you do. You can’t count your cards out of this one,muñeca. I can smell desperation a mile off. In my office, you fucking reeked of it.”

“I have a question for you,” I say shakily. “Do you hate me more for my name, or for what you ‘think’ I did last night?”

“Muñeca, you will never know how much I hate you.Allof you… There’s not an abyss in this world that is deep enough to contain it.” I recoil at the bite behind his words.The sureness.“Now, I have a question foryou... Are you planning to wear white to your forthcoming wedding?”

“Wedding?” I bow forward slightly, certain I’ve misheard. “What wedding?”

He offers me another of his arctic smiles. “In sickness and in health,señorita.” He gives me a wink that’s more a threat. “Let’s make yourpapáreally mad, shall we?”

Oh.

My.

God.

The air lodges at the back of my throat and it doesn’t shift. “You reallyareinsane,” I whisper, scanning his face for mockery, but seeing only blank certainty. “One minute you’re siding me with Hitler and the next you want to…”

I can’t even say the words, let alone breathe in oxygen.

Then I remember why I took this trip to Atlantic City in the first place, and suddenly the future is paved with black and gold and mutual animosity of the murderous kind.

“There must be another way,” I stammer.

“You either take the money and accept, or I can end it all now.” He opens the left side of his suit jacket to reveal his gun and holster.

More blackmail?

What a week.

“This isn’t a choice. This is basement extortion. Congratulations, Carrera, you just created a new bullying low point.” I start to sway. I think I’m going to faint.