Inked in Lies (The Fallen Men 5) - Page 128

“Fuck,” Zeus cursed before tunin’ in to his phone. “Lion, yeah, we got a serious fuckin’ situation. The Ventura motherfuckers got Honey and Lila.”

“You work for Javier fuckin’ Ventura?” I asked soft, so soft ’cause my lungs couldn’t pull in breath, and I didn’t have much air left.

My mind had short circuited with enraged horror. I was just instinct, the beast in my gut unchained and dominant, operatin’ on sheer intuition.

“You work for that motherfucker?” I asked again. Seethin’, I suddenly jerked outta my seat to grab the large man by the throat, poundin’ him into the wall of the chapel so hard the paneling bent to the shape of him.

Lysander let me manhandle him, his eyes almost dead but for the panic corrodin’ the edges of his grim face. “Been workin’ for him for ’bout a year.”

“He’s workin’ with me,” Lion said through the speaker phone of Z’s cell. “He’s been undercover with the Venturas for months.”

“And you didn’t think to fuckin’ tell us that shit?” Zeus growled.

“No,” Lion said firmly. “You and Sander have too much history. You don’t trust him, and I get that, but I do. I’m comin’ down now, don’t kill him until I get there, and we can sort a plan of action.”

Zeus hung up, but I didn’t let go of Lysander. Instead, I breathed like a stuck bull and tried not to pound in his face.

“You knew this could happen,” I accused in a hissin’ breath as the snake coiled around my heart constricted tighter. “Just like you didn’t protect your sister when you should’ve, you didn’t protect those women.”

“What do you think I’m tryna do now?” he countered quietly, firmly. “Why do you think I’m workin’ for that fucker in the first place? ’Cause I like takin’ orders from a psychopath? I’m doin’ this to make things right after all the wrong I did.”

“You can start by tellin’ me where the fuck I can find Irina Ventura,” I offered with a nasty smile, pressin’ hard against his windpipe.

“You don’t wanna go there, man. Woman’s mean as a viper. She’ll kill any Fallen man she sees soon as you get in her sights.”

“Not me,” I promised darkly, mind racin’, pulse poundin’ so hard I nearly choked on it in my throat. “Every villain’s got a fuckin’ weakness, and Irina’s is her cunt.”

* * *

* * *

I cut the engine of my Harley at the end of her driveway, takin’ in the massive, honeyed yellow mansion with the terracotta roof lookin’ straight from her homeland. As I pulled of my helmet, I noticed the men on both sides of the house with guns trained on me and the man on the second story with his rifle pointed at my head through a cracked open window.

I was casual as I swung off my bike and ambled over to the front door to ring the bell, actin’ unfazed when a huge motherfucker with a face as ugly as a swine’s ass answered the call.

“Lookin’ for Irina,” I offered with a cocky grin, leanin’ against the doorframe as if I had all the time in the world to wait for the bitch. “She in?”

“Guapo.”

I looked over the man’s shoulder as Irina descended a sweepin’ marble staircase clad in a skin-tight, white dress done up from breasts to toe with a single zipper.

Bile surged up my throat and coated the back of my tongue, but I swallowed it back as I shoved my helmet into the doorman’s chest and pushed past him to grin wickedly at Irina as I slowly check her out.

“Lookin’ gorgeous, Irina,” I told her as she took her last step and accepted my offered hand. I tugged her closer, watchin’ her face closely ’cause I was playin’ the most dangerous game of my life, and I needed every single fuckin’ clue I could get.

“I thought you weren’t interested in my beauty anymore?” she asked lightly as she studied me with the slanted eyes of a snake. “I thought you were being a good boy, not dabbling with the wicked witch set against your precious club.”

“I’ve always been more of a bad boy at heart,” I said with a wink as I ran a single finger down her neck then slowly wrapped it with one hand.

Hated doin’ it knowin’ how much Lila’d loved it, my hand collared around her pretty neck, the sight of my tats the prettiest necklace she’d ever wear.

But Irina loved the danger of bein’ with me almost more than she loved my good looks.

So I gave that to her and watched her lids lower, heavy with arousal.

“Well, well,” she purred, cantin’ her hips into mine. “This is suspicious timing, guapo, given I just sent one of your young boys home after a lovely beating from my men, but who am I to resist temptation?”

Tags: Giana Darling The Fallen Men Erotic
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