“Did you plan on burning it from the start?”
“That was one potential outcome.”
“Did you know I was going to be there?”
“No, you were a happy accident.”
I stop walking. He turns, his hand like iron on my wrist, but he doesn’t yank me. “What the hell do you want with Kieren? Seriously,who are you?”
I don’t know why I’m suddenly worried about my ex, but this is all wrong. Liam’s clearly not the kind of person I’d want rooting around my car. He’s the sort of man who shows up to make a mess, not to clean one up, and I get a terrible, sinking feeling that Kieren is in a lot of trouble.
Even more than cheating on me and ruining my life.
“My name’s Liam Lankshear. I work for Finn Whelan. Now will you please get moving again?” The sirens are louder now. We’re a few blocks from the garage, but not far enough. He closes some of the distance between us. “Either that, or we can pretend like we’re a couple of lovers having a quarrel, and when the cops come searching this area, we can start making up?—“
My eyes widen. “They’ll search?”
“Of course they will. Now are we going to make out in a dirty alleyway like two horny teens? Or are you going to follow me to my place where it’s safe until this shit blows over?”
I hesitate, heart thrumming, but that name zings around my mind.
Whelan.
It’s a name I know well, much too well, even if that family exists as a vague specter in my life. I’ve heard my father speaking about them, heard him mention meetings with major figures in their organization. I’ve even seen hints and whispers of them in the books of my father’s construction company.
“Alright, okay, fine. You really work for the Whelans?”
“I sure do, love.” He starts walking, and I reluctantly follow. “Just like your daddy.”
We lapse into silence. Liam leads us on a circuitous route for a half hour before ordering an Uber back into Manhattan. I sit in the back of the car, our knees almost touching, and try not to stare at the strange man taking me back to his unknown apartment.
The Whelan family. My father’s employers.
Liam’s one of them, and the kind of member who wears a suit and goes to work every day in an office like I’m used to. He was snooping through Kieren’s car, which means something very bad is going on, and I don’t fully understand what.
We get dropped off outside of a surprisingly nice apartment building. Liam heads inside, greets the doorman, and gets on the elevator. “You smell like gas and smoke,” I mutter as we ride to the top floor.
“I know, great, isn’t it? Don’t worry about Ivan down there. He’s seen much worse, trust me.”
Liam’s place is shockingly nice. The man’s dressed like a thug and acts like a killer, but his apartment feels more like it belongs to a high-end hedge fund manager. Big, airy windows, multiple rooms, everything expensively furnished. He cracks a bottle of whisky and pours two glasses as I sit nervously at his kitchen island, the marble countertop gleaming in the modern lighting.
“Drink,” he says, sliding a glass to me, and lifts his to his lips.
I don’t bother pretending like I don’t want it. I toss the full thing back in one go and cough, covering my mouth.
“Jesus Christ, that was a three-hundred-dollar glass of scotch.” He laughs, delighted, and pours me another. “Do it again.”
I glare and ignore him. “Are you ready to explain what the hell happened back there? I’m seriously struggling to keep myself from freaking out right now.”
“That’s fair.” He rolls his glass, sips, and wanders into the living room, looking out the windows. “I hate this city, but I love this view.”
I spin and watch him look out at the vista. I follow his gaze, softening somewhat. I have to admit, it’s an incredible view: New York spreads out, lights and steel, cars crawling along. I try to spot a plume of rising smoke, but the skyline is quiet.
“Why were you searching Kieren’s car?”
He turns to study me again. Another sip of his drink. The whisky warms my belly and spreads to my head, making everything soft.
“Your boyfriend did something very stupid. I was sent to confirm it, and to fix it.”
