Page 11 of Twisted Trust (Mafia Lords of Sin #10)

LEVI

T he words slip out before I can stop them.

All I hear is this obnoxious bitch tearing down the woman I’ve just spent four hours watching drive herself crazy about the safety of her son.

How dare she stand there and act like Maeve isn’t a good mother?

Like her entire world doesn’t revolve around that child?

His cry of happiness in the hospital upon seeing Maeve awake is all I need to know about how happy and loved that boy is. This wretched woman doesn’t have a fucking clue and I can’t act on the homicidal urges I have right inside a police station, so this is the next best thing.

Maeve is staring at me with her mouth wide open, and Hillary matches her surprise while holding that annoying pen an inch above her folder.

“Excuse me?” Hillary chokes out and her gaze slides from me to Maeve. “You’re engaged?”

“Yes, she is.” I step between them before Maeve can even think of calling me out on my lie.

Then I hold my hand out to Hillary. “Charles Davenport. You might have heard of myself or my father, the founder of the Davenport hotels you see on the Strip? That should give you a hint at the safety and security I provide for my fiancée and her son. I also dabble in investing, but as I said, your current prejudice against my wife-to-be tells me that you don’t deserve to hear a single one of my credentials.

After you return Scott to his mother, however, I’d be more than happy to talk to your boss about who I am and your atrocious conduct in this matter. ”

Hillary takes a few long seconds to stare at me, then she closes her mouth and swallows audibly.

“I am familiar with the Davenport name,” she says quickly.

“Maeve never mentioned that she was seeing anyone. Usually in cases like this, we need to know about everyone who is around the child in question.”

“I asked Maeve to keep it quiet, a matter I now regret. I wanted Maeve to be judged fairly on her merit and not by her association with me, but clearly, I had too much faith in the fair practice of Child Protective Services. You already judged her and made up your mind, and your attitude since then has been to fit that narrative rather than see what really happened. Maeve trusted a friend who is now missing and it’s a miracle Scott turned up unharmed.

Surely, it would be in everyone’s best interests to return Scott to his mother? ”

Hillary glances past me at Maeve, and whatever she sees finally makes her move. “Wait here one moment,” she says quickly, then she hurries past both of us and leaves the room.

The door barely closes and Maeve turns on me, shoving both her hands into my chest to push me away. “What the hell are you doing?” she snaps sharply, barely keeping her voice down. “Are you insane? Engaged? I don’t need you to fight my battles for me! Battles you helped fuel!”

I catch her wrist as she tries to push me again and as she stumbles into me, I wind my other arm around her waist and pull her close despite her grunting protest. “Maeve. I had nothing to do with this. My people had nothing to do with this, but I will do everything I can to find Cameron and the truth. But until then, you need me. You heard her. She’s ready to pull Scott away from you without a second thought.

Is that what you want? To lose your son? ”

“No!” She barks at me and slowly, her struggles cease as the logic of my plan finally seeps through her desperation. “I can’t lose him.”

“And with my help, you won’t.”

“I don’t understand.” Maeve’s brows knit together and her eyes dart back and forth as she studies my face. “One minute, you want to kill me and the next, you’re helping me get my son back?”

I don’t have an answer for her. Try as I might to draw one up from the depths of my troubled soul, I have nothing that makes sense. Before the silence drags on too long, we’re interrupted by Hillary who looks away as Maeve and I break apart from what likely looked like an intimate embrace.

“Where is he?” Maeve demands as she peers past Hillary. “Where’s my son?”

“He’s with an officer just out front,” Hillary says tightly.

“He will be returned to you, but we will be watching you closely. You might have a stable partner”—her narrowed gaze darts briefly to me— “but money doesn’t equal safety.

We will be keeping you under strict observation, and the slightest hint that something is not right and you will lose him, do you understand? ”

Maeve is barely listening. I can tell by how she bounces on her feet and eagerly peers behind Hillary looking for the moment she can escape outside to reunite with her son. So I answer her for her.

“Look as closely as you want,” I say quietly, guiding Maeve past Hillary.

She slips from my grasp as soon as she’s out the door.

“But you?” I cast one cold eye over Hillary.

“I don’t ever want to see you again, understand?

One call and I can make it happen, but wouldn’t it be terrible of you to deal with a complaint and lose your job in one day? ”

Hillary’s narrowed eyes widen and she attempts to move past me, but I block her with one single step while ensuring I don’t make contact with her.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?” she asks shakily.

“Tell me you won’t be pursuing Maeve anymore. It might be detrimental to your health .”

“You can’t make me?—”

“Ah.” I tsk softly and lift one hand, rocking my finger back and forth as my voice drops down low. “Try again.”

Her eyes dart over me and then past me, seeking help from anyone, but there’s no one here. Just me and her, and I won’t have her threatening Maeve again. “I?—”

“Yes?” I tilt my head and angle my ear toward her.

“I’ll try and close the case.”

“Try?”

“My boss… this case isn’t open and shut. Maeve is?—”

Surging forward, I grab Hillary’s wrist and jerk her hand toward me.

She gasps in pain as I tighten my grip until the small bones of her wrist shift under my fingers.

“Maeve is a fantastic mother. A woman who has lost her friend and almost lost her child. But she is doing everything she can to care for a child she loves. Some would say there are better ways to spend your time.”

My threat finally reaches Hillary and she whimpers, then snatches her hand away when I relax my grip. “Yes,” she gasps as tears smart at the corners of her eyes. “You’re right. Case closed.”

“Excellent.” I don’t believe her, but one call and I’ll ensure Maeve isn’t bothered ever again. Straightening my stance, I adjust my tie and flash cowering Hillary a smile. “Be seeing you.”

Outside, Maeve is on her knees squeezing the life out of Scott who is sobbing in her arms and pulling hard on her hair in his desperation to be close to her.

His cries sear right through me like a molten blade, which catches me off guard and must have been visible on my face because Chip gives me a strange look.

“You good?”

I nod quickly. “Fine.”

“You look like someone just shot your favorite dog or something.”

“I’m fine. Though can you get me information on the CPS file on Maeve? That woman had a grudge and I want to know why, and make sure it’s closed.”

“Will do,” Chip agrees. “Anything for your fiancée, right?”

Our eyes meet. “She told you?”

“Yup. She sounded as stunned as I feel because Levi, what the fuck are you doing? Do you not remember how this went the last time?” He keeps his voice low.

“I understand you might think she’s not the leak, or was working with someone else, but is inviting her back into your life like this really the best idea? ”

I look past him to Maeve who finally climbs to her feet and picks Scott up. She engages in brief conversation with the policeman beside her but her smile is unmistakable. The relief of having her baby back in her arms is overwhelming, and everything else melts away.

“It’s not the best idea,” I say softly. “But it’s the right one.”

“You’re under her spell again.” Chip snorts good-naturedly. “Damn. The ice giant melts.”

“Fuck off.” I elbow him quickly in the ribs. “Where’s the car?”

“Donald’s bringing the four by four with a car seat. You’re welcome.”

“Thanks.”

“Speaking of…” Chip suddenly turns his back to Maeve and Scott and drastically lowers his voice as he leans closer. “Cameron’s apartment.”

“What about it?”

“It was brutal, we can agree. But it was perfectly brutal.”

I glance sidelong at him. “What are you getting at?”

“It was perfect, sure. Too perfect, if you ask me. Almost as if it was staged.”

“By him?” I ask and then my gaze slides back to Maeve. “Or by her?”

Chip shrugs. “Her grief seemed pretty genuine. But everything else just feels… off.”

“Noted. Thanks.”

“You got it.” Chip steps away as the policeman moves past us with a polite smile, then Maeve walks up to me with Scott in her arms. His sobbing has faded somewhat and now he sits in her arms with his head under her chin, hiccupping every so often around the fist in his mouth.

“I don’t know why you did this,” Maeve says, and her voice cracks. “But thank you.”

“You’re coming with me to my penthouse,” I say, choosing not to give her a reason. “That woman was pretty clear about keeping an eye on you, so we’re going to have to keep up appearances.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as it takes.”

Maeve nods and briefly closes her eyes. “Fine. But that means you can’t K-I-L-L me either,” she mutters, spelling out the word she doesn’t want to say with Scott in her arms.

“If I wanted to, I’d be able to. Don’t forget who you’re talking to.” The threat isn’t meant to hold weight, but it rises like a reflex as if to try and protect me from the growing affection for Maeve that’s rekindling in my heart.

“Whatever,” she mutters. “Maybe I should just go home then.”

“No,” I say quickly. “Returning to the building where your friend went missing and your son was taken will look reckless to Hillary. You need to be seen making good choices. Come home with me.”

As she contemplates what to do, Donald pulls up behind us with the family's four-by-four and hops out with a smile. “Evening.”

“Evening.”

“Where to?” he asks, moving past Maeve and opening the back door.

I look at Maeve and she faintly rolls her eyes, then presses a lingering kiss to Scott’s head. “Fine. I’ll come home with you.”

It’s difficult to contain my smile so I clear my throat and stretch out my arm, offering her the first entry to the car.

She takes it and allows Chip to help her and Scott inside.

I allow her a few minutes to get settled and then follow.

She sits near the window with her arms around the car seat Scott’s been strapped into.

He starts to whine so she begins humming softly in her throat with her face resting near his head.

I sit across from her and Chip hops in next to her.

Any further conversation is paused in front of Scott so the ride is comfortably silent until it becomes utterly quiet as Scott rapidly falls asleep in his car seat and Maeve dozes off not two minutes after.

It’s the first time I’ve seen her look peaceful. Her cheeks are still streaked with makeup from her tears, there’s still a slight furl between her brows, and her lower lip has been anxiously bitten to the point of bruising, but she looks peaceful.

As peaceful as the mornings I’d wake up before her and just lovingly study her face.

How did we get to this?

How did the woman I love become the source of my greatest pain, and why couldn’t I end that pain by ending her life? Now she’s in my jeep with her son, fast asleep as if she’s surrounded by people she can trust, and the world will think she’s my fiancée.

Shit. My father will find out soon enough, too. Maybe there’s a way I can spin this to my advantage and make him think this was a tactical choice and not a moment of weakness to keep Maeve with her son.

To stop the woman I care for from suffering so deeply.

My thoughts don’t calm even as we reach the penthouse and I don’t have the heart to wake her.

Neither Maeve nor Scott stirs when Chip and I ease them from the car, and they remain sound asleep as I carry Maeve and Chip carries Scott toward the elevator.

Maeve rests in my arm with aching familiarity and it doesn’t ease even as we sweep all the way up to the penthouse.

The ache in my chest doesn’t ease until Maeve is asleep in my bed with Scott next to her and I’m able to step away from her warmth and her scent.

Too many conflicting emotions clash in my chest, and I try to drown them with a strong glass of bourbon.

It doesn’t help.

I made this choice. It may be the worst decision I’ve made to date.

Or… it could be the best.