Page 103 of Bared Betrayal

I push my way inside. It’s sparse. Nice but bland. No personal touches like knick-knacks or pictures cluttering the place. It’s clearly a staged rental, meaning she isn’t local, and she’s expensive. It reeks of lemon cleaner.

“Impersonating a federal agent isn’t very ethical either, yet here we are,” I say, turning to face her. There’s a moment when her expression gives her away, shock and disbelief laced on every line of her face. But again, she shakes it off quickly and slips into the persona she’s been playing for months.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“I have to admit, you’re good, having me fooled for so long. Tell me who the fuck hired you.”

“The United States government,” she says, clearly trying her hand at some good old-fashioned sarcasm.

“Spare me the bullshit.”

“I don’t have to spare you anything.” She places a hand on her hip, and I slowly start toward her.

“Who is paying you?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit!” I roar, and all it takes is a few more steps and I have her trapped against the wall and my hand around her throat. “If you’re half as good as I think you are, you know who I really am, and what I really do for a living.”

“I…”

“I’ll tell you what’s about to happen.” I bite my fingers into her neck, feeling the ridges and curves of her delicate throat. “I’m going to ask you questions and you are going to answer them. If I so much as think you’re about to lie to me, I will kill you.”

Her eyes open wide, and I can see the fear in her tiny, pinprick pupils.

She nods.

“Who hired you?”

She swallows hard, her lips parted, testing me with a few heartbeats of silence before finally answering. “Elenor Stone.”

I don’t even bat a fucking eyelash, not the least bit surprised. “Why?”

“To find dirt on you.”

“For what reason?”

“She wants to blackmail you.”

“For what?”

“Money.”

Okay, that tidbit surprises me a little. “That old hag has more money than she knows what to do with. Why would she need my money?”

“How about you let go of me now, and we can talk like two adults.”

“Fine,” I huff, letting go of her throat.

Her hand flies up to her neck, and she rubs the flesh now bruised with my finger marks. When she can right herself, she looks me in the eye and the strength just leaves her. I can see she knows there is no way out of this. She kicks off her heels and walks barefoot to the couch, for the first time not swaying like she is waving her ass at any man brave enough to take it.

She sits and motions for me to sit across from her in a chair. I take the gun from my waistband and lay it on my lap. My fingers stay away from the trigger, but I want her to know the threat is still very real. It’s not. The gun isn’t even loaded, but again, what she doesn’t know can scare her into pretty much anything.

“Start talking,” I say.

She looks at the gun and swallows. “Elenor Stone is broke.”

“How broke?”