Beauty in Deception

“Why am I here?”

I fill the glass on the nightstand with water from the pitcher and offer her the painkillers I’d set aside. Supporting her neck, I bring the glass to her lips. She pops the pills in her mouth and swallows obediently, seeming a little less tense now that I’ve tucked my cock into my pants.

When she’s had her fill of the water, I put the glass on the nightstand.

“Evie.”

Her gaze snaps to mine at the sound of her name.

Hovering over her, I lay down the terms. “You have two choices. If you stay put until I say you can move, I won’t have to tie you up.”

Her delicate throat ripples as she swallows.

“What’s it going to be?” I ask.

“I won’t run.” She adds with sarcasm, “I won’t get far, anyway.”

Her defiance makes me smile. “Good. I have to take care of business. Let’s make this your first test.”

A knock falls on the door. Mateo opens it without waiting for a reply. “Andrew left. The doctor asked if you need him to come out.”

“In a minute.” I tilt my head toward the hallway, letting him know we’ll talk in private. “Round up the men in the recreation room.”

He glances at Evie, his eyes hardening before he leaves with a scowl.

I pull back my sleeve and check the time on my watch. News about the kidnapping would’ve long since reached Warren. I wish I could’ve seen his face.

“How many?” she asks.

I look at her. An impulse urges me to lick my thumb and wipe away the black streaks under her eyes, but I don’t act on it. She’s watching me with a clenched jaw.

Adjusting the collar of my sweater, I humor her. “How many what?”

“How many men did you kill?”

“As many as was necessary.”

Incredulously, she says, “You blew up their car.”

I shrug. “I have an arsenal of weapons.”

Anger simmers in her eyes. “You don’t give a damn about the innocent people you killed. You’re a monster.”

I chuckle. “There’s no arguing that, sweetheart. Just to set the record straight, those men weren’t innocent. They were guilty by association. Any man on Warren’s side is an enemy of mine.”

“How many survived? Where are you keeping them? Are they injured?”

So many questions, and she’s asking all the wrong ones. I smile. “Try to rest. I’ll send up food and a warm drink.”

She purses her lips.

I drop my phone in my back pocket and pull on my jacket. I’m already at the door when she speaks again.

“You haven’t told me who you are.”

She hasn’t recognized me. Her father did a poor job in educating her. I take perverse satisfaction from setting that straight. “Roman Malan.”

Her pretty eyes grow large.

I close the door on her shocked face and lock it, leaving the key on the outside, before making my way downstairs.

Mateo catches up with me in the foyer. “The men are waiting in the rec room. They’re helping themselves to drinks. What do you want me to tell Andrew about the doctor? Must he come?”

I carry on to the study. “Are Warren’s men injured?”

He falls into step next to me. “Not much.”

“Then no.”

Entering the study, I head for the liquor tray. Mateo follows and closes the door behind him.

I lift the decanter. “Drink?”

He nods.

We can do with one. I pour two glasses and hand him a scotch. When I’m seated behind my desk, he takes the visitor’s chair.

“What’s on the news?” I ask, swirling the liquor in my glass and taking a sip. The alcohol burns down my throat to my stomach, leaving a pleasant lingering heat.

“Nothing aside from the explosion. The police suspect a gang fight. They say the witnesses fled the scene. Our clean-up team made sure no evidence was left behind.”

Good. That means Warren hasn’t reported his daughter’s kidnapping. He knows how it works. He won’t go to the police. He understands as well as every other head of a crime family if he does, she’s dead. He’ll wait until whoever took her makes demands.

Mateo pins me with a stare. “When are you contacting him?”

He means Warren. “Soon. Let him sweat it out.”

“I’m keeping tabs on the social media accounts of some of the people who were supposed to attend the celebration, tonight. They cancelled the party at Stone’s place.”

“With what excuse?” The answer should be entertaining.

“Warren said Evie came down with a stomach bug just before the event. They’ll reschedule.”

I trace the rim of my glass. Warren will delay the rescheduling with excuses until he gets his daughter back.

“What about Warren’s men?” Mateo asks.

“Feed them.”

He gapes at me like I’ve lost my marbles.

“Make something for Evie, too, and take it to my room,” I continue. “She needs a warm cup of tea.”

His knuckles turn white around the glass. “Why the fuck will I do that?”

I give him a hard look. “Because I’m telling you.”