Page 73 of Sweet Deception

But my loyalty to this family comes first.

All I can do is give her one more chance to confess.

Before things get ugly.

“Shane’s on his way here with Donal. My father.”

“Your father?” Her eyes widen. “And Shane, as in…”

“Shane Gallagher, head of the Kings.” I watch her closely. The way she swallows proves that she knows exactly who Shaneis. “Worst-case scenario, they think you’re dealing with these women to gather intel on the families for Red Hill. For Troy Sullivan.” My rough fingers trace the lighter’s edge. “And now you’re here, gathering intel on us for the same purpose. It doesn’t look good, Nika.”

“Are they going to kill me?” Her voice remains steady, but her hand drifts up to the necklace around her throat. A worn gold cross. Probably belonged to someone, maybe even her grandmother, with the way she strokes it with care and familiarity.

I glide closer, carefully seating myself on the coffee table directly in front of her. Her knees press together between my thighs.

Torn between duty and this absurd, growing instinct to protect her, I grasp her hands in mine. Even if she is spying on behalf of rival families…

I can’t hurt this woman. I won’t.

With a cold rush of horror, another realization dawns on me.

I refuse to let anyone else hurt her either.

“You’ve got to give me something to work with here, all right?” My voice is low and soft. “Just tell me the truth.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

I pray Darren can’t see the way my entire being quakes when he reveals they’ve discovered my communications with women from mob families. God only knows how damning the evidence against me must seem.

I never imagined the Kings might be researching methe same way I’ve been researching them. I never once dreamed they’d be good enough to hack me back.

My mind spins out of control in a merry-go-round of frazzled, fragmented thoughts. I force myself to focus on Darren’s eyes. His strong hands grip mine, and I inhale, hold, and exhale to ground myself. “I can prove it.”

Gulping down one last knot of panic, I attempt to square my shoulders and sit up tall.

“Prove what?”

“That I only helped them disappear. That I know nothing about their pasts.” I want to stand up and pace, but I’m still frozen to the spot. “I have records showing exactly what services I provided. They’re back at my apartment.”

An almost accusatory silence falls between us.

Darren must believe I’m making this up to try and trick him into taking me home.

His hands squeeze mine. “We still have time.”

Wait, what’s happening right now? Does that mean…he actually believes me?

“Come on.” He stands and pulls me with him, lacing his fingers through mine while folding the laptop underneath his other arm. “We’ve got to get to your apartment and get the proof before Shane and my father arrive. That’s our best bet at keeping you alive and unharmed.”

Before I can agree, Darren picks up Piro and leads me to the front door.

Out in the evening light, the sun dwindles through the trees. We hasten to his Aston Martin parked haphazardly in the driveway, and just like that, we’re gone.

The trip back to Bushwick takes less than an hour, especially since Darren drives like a damn lunatic. I spend the trip cuddling Piro in my lap and sneaking glimpses at Darren’s serious features. Every glimpse restokes the fire from earlier.

I glance away quickly, heat pooling in my cheeks.

Bozhe moy, I could slap myself.