Page 168 of Lethal King

“Are you fucking with me?” Rian asks. Leaning forward, he studies me carefully. I glare back at him.

“Are you fucking with me?” I snap back, turning away from his intoxicating gaze. “You sent me a text to meet you here at 9 pm. I know it was you, even if you were too cowardly to use your own number.”

Rian doesn’t immediately respond. Instead, he just continues to stare. Then, slowly, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.

Swiping down, he opens up the screen and turns it around.

“Did your text look anything like this one?” he asks.

My jaw drops as I read the near identical message.

“What the fuck is going on?” I mutter.

“You tell me.”

“I don’t know,” I insist.

“You’re saying you didn’t send me this text?”

“Obviously not.”

“Then who did?”

My mind spins as I try to come up with an explanation. Is Rian playing with me?

If not him, then someone else must be.

But other than Rian, who else knows about the mark on my throat? No one. I wouldn’t dare tell a soul, and for some reason, I can’t exactly imagine him bragging about it.

Still, I try to think up an answer as Rian stares me down.

Whoever sent that text to me must also know about what happened when Tytus returned Melina Kilpatrick’s painting. But who the hell could know both of those things?

For a moment, I hit another dead end.

Of course, Rian and his sister would know about the encounter, and maybe a small group of their inner circle, but unless Rian is messing with me, then it couldn’t have been any of them.

That only leaves Tytus.

A knot appears in my gut.

No. It doesn’t just leave Tytus.

While I was under Rian’s control, Tytus was with Drago. My adoptive father was supposedly at the hospital before I arrived. That would have given him plenty of time to hear about Tytus’ little adventure.

Fuck.

If Drago knows, does that mean Leander could too?

A strike of fear flashes through me as I look around the crowded restaurant. We’re vulnerable.

Dealing with an ambush devised by Rian Kilpatrick is one thing. I’ve learned my lion’s habits. He won’t do anything I can’t handle. But Leander?

I have no idea what that fucker is capable of, and I definitely don’t trust him. Same goes for Drago—no matter how hard Tytus is trying to change that.

My hackles rise.

“We need to leave,” I say, standing up.