“I paid for Lucy Lawrence to go in anonymously. They won’t trace it.” Lucy’s firm has handled our family’s legal business since my father’s era, but she took over our account about five years ago and impressed the shit out of all of us. She’s a brilliant attorney who somehow maintains her humanity without being all high-moraled.
“Good,” Nico says, but I get the feeling he doesn’t believe it’s all good.
“She wouldn’t roll over, anyway,” I say fiercely. But I’m not one hundred percent sure of that. She holds herself back. This could all be one giant manipulation.
“Whose idea was it to come to Vegas?” Nico’s question is deceptively casual.
Fanculo.
“Hers. But she hasn’t been out of my sight.” Of course she was typing away on her computer this morning, and I have no way of knowing what the fuck she’s doing on it.
The memory of her quizzing me over and over again about what I’d do if she betrayed me buzzes around in the back of my mind.
“There was no breach in security that I can see since you’ve been here,” Vlad says with his thick Russian accent.
Well, that’s good.
“She thinks the Family offed her dad,” I tell them.
“No shit. Who’s her dad?” Stefano asks.
“Lake West. Remember him? Small time middle man for stolen goods. Electronics mostly. That’s what I’ve dug up, anyway. You know anything about his death?”
All three of them shake their heads.
“I think he could’ve been working for the bratva, too. Vlad, do you have ties to the other cells there? One that would’ve been around ten years ago when he disappeared?”
Vlad shrugs. “I can make an inquiry. Set up a meeting if you like.” After a moment’s hesitation, he shakes his head. “They would kill you alone. I would have to come to Chicago and go with you to ensure your safety.”
“Would you do that?”
Vlad shrugs. “You’re family. My new brotherhood. Maybe Caitlin will be my new sister, ah?”
I look through the sliding glass doors at my crazy, wild unicorn of a girl. The geeky glasses perched on her nose somehow make the banging hot body even more banging. She’s uncomfortable and I need to go in and rescue her soon.
“Something like that,” I say, because it’s hard to imagine Caitlin agreeing to marry me. But when he says it, I realize that’s it. I’d love to lock this thing down with her forever. If I could be sure I trusted her. If I got to see all the secrets of her soul.
“Okay. I will set it up. We’ll go next week.” Vlad slides the cooked steaks onto a plate, which Stefano picks up, since Vlad’s hands are full with Lara.
“Thank you, I appreciate that.” I follow the men in and take up my protective position beside Caitlin.
My crazy, beautiful hacker unicorn.
The girl I’m not sure I can trust.
The girl I love.
Chapter 11
Caitlin
In the silence between sex and sleep, Paolo’s deep voice cracks the darkness.
“Who hurt you, doll?” We’re spooning, my back to his front, his arm around me, hand molded over my breast.
I go still, listening to the sounds of our breath, making sure I know what he means. Even though I’m pretty sure I do, I warble, “What do you mean?”
He waits a beat. Then he says, “Tell be about the checking out thing.”
My heart starts hammering. He must feel it because he shifts his hand to rest over my heart instead. His lips come to my nape. “Don’t be afraid. Just tell me.”
I don’t know if afraid is the right word. But I’m broken. Damaged. And I don’t like looking at my brokenness.
I lick my lips. “The official diagnosis is depersonalization-derealization disorder. It’s one of the dissociative disorders. When I’m triggered, I have this out-of-body experience, not in a good way. Like I’m just an observer. Like you said, I check out.”
“And who made you that way?”
Again, my heart-rate accelerates. Is it so obvious someone damaged me?
“Breathe,” he commands, pinching my nipple, and I realize I was holding my breath. “Tell me.”
He’s so confident, so sure of himself. Six months of therapy and I could never bring myself to even hint that something happened. What if my therapist had just demanded the truth, like my dommy boyfriend? Would I have gotten over it?
I force my lips to move. “Wh-why?” I think I already know the answer.
“I’m going to avenge you.”
My stomach somersaults. His solution is so simple. So obvious and overt. Someone wrongs you, there’s retribution. I stole from him so I deserved to be kidnapped and have my brother threatened. It’s like an equation or truth in his world.
How would I feel about my foster dad swimming with the fishes?
Actually, I’d be fine. I guess I have no moral compass, either. But I don’t want him to commit murder for me.
“What will you do?”