Page 128 of Lethal Torture

So I make general conversation with Mickey and Lars, who is as sweet and harmless as a giant golden retriever. It’s hard to believe he is a software genius worth millions, and even harder to understand why he and Alexei are so close. I can’t imagine two men being any more different than they are.

“We’re taking her to Midnight Chocolate,” Lars tells me, beaming as if a late-night dessert bar is the height of sophistication. “They do an unbelievable chocolate fountain.”

Ofelia’s less-than-thrilled expression makes Luke’s grim one soften slightly. “That sounds brilliant,” he says, bestowing an approving look on Lars. “Nice choice.”

“Amazing,” mutters Ofelia, casting her brother a resentful look.

Mickey just shrugs, still smiling quietly.

“Cheers, Luke,” he says, gripping his hand. “Thanks again for coming.”

“You’re welcome.” Luke glances at me. “I’m just going to have a quick word with Luis. I’ll meet you at the door.”

I nod, say my goodbyes, and start edging toward the exit. I’m almost there when an uncomfortably strong hand grips my arm.

“Miss Melikov.” I turn, masking my dislike of unwanted physical touch with the poise of long practice, to find Rhys Stewart glaring at me.

“Mr. Stewart.” I give him a knowing smile. “It’s been some time since we’ve met.” I lift an eyebrow just enough to remind him that on the last occasion we did meet, he was bent over a bedin one of the Quartier’s back rooms, being pegged by one of my more adventurous girls.

“Luke Macarthur is a damned good man, or at least he was.” His voice is low and shakes slightly. “He shouldn’t be anywhere near you or your... operation. Cut him loose, before he loses whatever shred of integrity he still possesses.”

Despite the sudden, sickening lurch in my stomach, I keep my customary poker face intact. “You seem very interested in my private life, Mr. Stewart. Why is that, exactly?”

His expression darkens even further. “Luke Macarthur and I know a lot of the same people,” he says tersely. “People I can’t afford to have knowing my secrets.”

Was that an open threat?

Rhys Stewart is no lowbrow criminal. He’s high enough up in the shadowy world to have been given membership to the Quartier and dangerous enough to be responsible for several high-level assassinations, all carefully disguised as accidents.

I should know. I helped orchestrate one of them.

And now he’s threatening Luke.

The sickening feeling in my belly grows, made poisonous by fear.

I have to put an end to this. Right now, before he gets any ideas.

I give Rhys a dismissive smile. “Luke is a nice handbag, Mr. Stewart, nothing more.” I affect a bored tone, scanning the crowd as if already distracted. “I’d have thought you knew better than to concern yourself with my affairs. As everyone knows, they never last for very long.” I turn back to face him. “I do hope to see you at the ball,” I murmur and have the satisfaction of seeing his eyes flare with interest. I breathe an internal sigh of relief. For the moment, at least, it seems Luke has been forgotten.

Idiot,I think contemptuously as I turn away.So predictable.

To my surprise, Luke is standing directly behind me.

Did he hear that?I eye him anxiously, but he’s smiling as if nothing at all is amiss.

“Shall we?” There’s nothing in his reassuring hand on my waist that implies he’s upset with me.

I can’t say the same for the way he’s looking at Rhys. That stare could freeze a tropical beach.

“Stewart,” he says coldly.

“Macarthur.” Rhys’s tone matches his own.

For a second the two men face off. Then Luke turns me toward the exit, and Rhys is gone, absorbed by the crowd.

Since it’s stillearly on a Saturday night, Luke heads for the Quartier instead of home. So close to Christmas, the clubs are all running at full capacity, and neither of us can afford to take the whole night off.

“Did you catch the vibe between Ofelia and Alexei?” he says as soon as we pull out of the parking garage.