Page 14 of Heist in Paradise

“Will you shut up?” Zola’s voice interrupted. I knew it was a bad idea to pair them together, but I’d stupidly hoped Zola would keep him in line. Manage his mania. The only other person I trusted was Madoc, but he was currently occupied with frog-marching our hostage into the room.

Olivia.

A short, heart-faced blonde with shockingly toned legs and a backpack full of secrets. Stormy gray eyes that brimmed with lies. I knew a swindler when I saw one. Hell, we were the masters of it. I didn’t trust a single thing she said. I definitely wouldn’t be moved by those crocodile tears (even if it made her face screw up in a strangely endearing way).

Madoc dropped her into the chair at the end of the table, directly opposite me at the head. Callum remained by the door, his arms crossed like a hired guard. Ryle hesitated, catching Madoc’s maskless face, and shot me a hopeful look.

I nodded. Ryle pulled back a chair and collapsed in a heap, then swiped off his mask. His pallor was still concerning. The seasickness had probably wiped him of all his electrolytes.

A chocolate bar was thrown across the table as Madoc took his seat to my immediate right. Ryle gave it a wary look as he caught it beneath his palm. I didn’t blame him.

“Eat,” Madoc said.

Ryle opened his mouth to argue, then his eyes flicked to our guest, and he promptly took it without complaint. We didn’t fight in front of outsiders. Not even Nate broke that cardinal rule.

Plus, Madoc never shared. It wasn’t a gift to be taken lightly.

I dumped the binder onto the table. Olivia’s whole body flinched. It was clearly important to her, and that gave me leverage. Her face hardened, like she knew what I was thinking.

Of course she did. Like recognized like.

Might as well show her my true colors. I reached up and yanked my mask off. Her eyes widened, then dropped quickly. I was programmed to spot fear—to exploit it where necessary—and she was terrified.

“Are you going to kill me now?” she asked in a small voice.

“Depends if you behave.”

Her lips puckered in. “That’s not reassuring.”

“Watch me not give a fuck.” I jabbed my finger hard on the binder. She winced, then glared at me like I struck her instead. “The girl, Molly. Who was she to you?”

She lifted her head and glared at me coolly, clearly concocting another bullshit story.

“…My sister.” She said stiffly. But her voice cracked. “She went missing two years ago.”

Silence fell thick and heavy in the room.

If it was sympathy she wanted, she’d be sorely disappointed. We all had sob stories.

“That it?” I asked bluntly.

She scowled at my insincerity.

“You have five minutes,” I warned her. She recoiled in her chair like preparing for a blow. “Don’t mince your words. Convince me not to kill you.”

Don’t lie, I added in my head.

She didn’t know about Callum, who could read body language like a natural profiler. Or Madoc and his eidetic memory.

Olivia stood and smoothed down her shirt, as if she were about to conduct a business meeting. I sat down and kicked up my boots on the table. She glared at them like they personally offended her. Good.

“My sister, Molly Wood, went missing in October two years ago,” she said in a clear voice. “There has been no contact since. Not a single text, phone call, or online post. And no ransom.”

“You think she was kidnapped?”

She nodded. “I think there’s a reason she hasn’t come back.”

Beside me, Madoc straightened.