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There’s one possible way to find out, and that’s to just fucking ask.
So much has changed between me and the men who captured me over the past several weeks. They treat me like an equal now, like a part of their world—not a prisoner on the outside fringes. So if I ask Hale directly about what kind of businesses the Novak Syndicate is into, maybe he’ll tell me.
Throwing on a thin cardigan over my tank top, I slip out of the bedroom and quickly make my way down the hall. When we first came here, I never thought I would become so familiar with the layout of this massive house—I didn’t think I’d want to.
When I knock on Hale’s door, a quiet noise answers from the other side. He opens it a few seconds later. His hair is tousled from sleep, and he’s shirtless, a pair of shorts hanging low on his hips and exposing the sexy V at his waist.
Hale’s face immediately softens at the sight of me, and he pulls me into the room, wrapping his arms around me.
“Grace,” he murmurs, his deep voice a rumble against my skin. “What’s up?”
I let him hold me. I let myself relax in his arms and pretend nothing is wrong, pretend nothing strange happened today. When he exhales against my body, all the tension leaving his, I almost feel like I can believe that lie.
He pulls back a little, his gaze falling to my lips. But before he can kiss me, I stop him.
“I need to talk to you about something.”
His brows raise at the serious tone of my voice. Frowning, he asks, “Is everything all right?”
I try to assure him with a smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. “Yeah. Everything is fine… I think. There’s just something I’ve been thinking about lately.”
He nods, still watching me intently. He takes my hand and leads me over to the bed, gesturing for me to lie down. I do, and he climbs onto the mattress beside me, drawing my body closer to his.
This seems too comfortable and intimate for the conversation we’re about to have, but when he braces himself on one elbow and gazes down at me, I can’t quite bring myself to move. His blue eyes are soft and open, and it’s hard to look away.
The phone Agent Brady gave me is hidden in a roll of toilet paper underneath the bathroom sink, just like the phone I once stole from an old woman. If Hale knew about that, would he still look at me the same way? Would he still willingly invite me into his bed?
And if what Brady told me is true, would I willingly come to his bed? Could I love a man who trades in human lives?
I cringe, shoving away the thought. “It’s something… it’s something that Camilla told me about,” I murmur. As soon as the words come out, I know I picked the right lie. It’s plausible that my mother would’ve told me something like this about the Novaks in an attempt to convince me to join her side.
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“What did she tell you?”
There’s a hard edge to Hale’s voice, the same tone that always creeps in any time we talk about my mother.
“She said that the Novak Syndicate is running a human trafficking ring.” The words stick in the back of my throat, and my stomach twists.
It sounds like I’m accusing him of it. I’m not. I just need to know the truth. I desperately need to know if he’s… a monster. If each of the men that I’m living with are hiding the true extent of their darkness.
It scares the shit out of me.
He stares at me for a second, a line appearing between his brows. “What?”
“I know how mafia business works. I understand you trade in illegal shit, that sometimes things get messy and violent.” I force myself to keep looking at him, even though my eyes keep wanting to dart away. “I just need to know what kind of stuff you’re into. So I can make a choice about whether I want to be involved in any of this.”
He’s still looking at me like I’m crazy. “Camilla told you that?”
Fuck. “Yes.”
His jaw clenches. He blows out a breath, shaking his head angrily. “Well, she fucking lied. I don’t know if she got bad intel or if she was just trying to fuck with your head, but she lied to you, Grace. And I can say that with total confidence because since my father’s death, I’ve had a hand in every piece of business the Novak Syndicate is into. I’ve looked at the books. I’ve seen the contracts. Yeah, we trade illegal shit all the time. But never—”
“—people?”
“No.” His voice is firm. “Never people. The Novak syndicate has never done anything like that. Not me, not my father, not my grandfather. There are lines we don’t cross, shit we don’t play around with. The family has never and will never trade in humans.”
Relief rushes through me. It’s exactly what I thought, exactly what I knew had to be true. He says it so honestly, so sincerely, looking almost angry at the suggestion. How can I not believe him?
