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It hurt me, but it pissed me off too.
I looked up at Lucian. “Some of these are from casinos. But what about the rest? Are you having her followed?”
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. The proof was right here.
I pushed the file away, unable to look at it a second longer. “I can pay it back. I’ll just need some time.”
He dipped his head, and the hardness returned to his features. “I’m sure you could. But these are just petty thefts compared to some of the things you’ve done. I don’t think a courtroom is going to let you charm your way out of a category A felony.”
My stomach roiled as my eyes darted toward the nearest exit. “And what exactly would that be?”
Lucian leaned forward, prompting every inch of my body into high alert. “How about the murder of Ricky Montoya?”
My heart leaped into my throat, and for the first time in too many years, I forgot how to speak. Terror wrapped its icy claws around me as I tried to figure out a way to deny it. But I couldn’t.
Lucian tapped the table, drawing my attention back to him as he whispered, “It isn’t your money I want, Gypsy Blue. It’s your life.”
HER FACE PALED, AND THE composure she wore as an armor finally fractured.
“You must be joking,” she choked out. “You think you can coerce me into doing what you want because of this?”
“It works for you, doesn’t it?”
She pursed her lips and took a sip of her wine, trying to hide her nerves.
“I think you’ll do whatever I ask of you if it means protecting Birdie. The Ricky Montoya deal is just another incentive.”
Her fingers made small, jittery movements in her lap. “And what exactly are you asking of me?”
For a moment, I allowed myself to get lost in her smoky gray eyes. They were hypnotic, almost feline, and I could see why men fell all over themselves for her. In this lighting, the soft glow on her coppery skin painted an image of a Greek goddess—close enough to touch but too far removed from reality. She was the ethereal oasis that men wished they could find in the parched desert. At a different time in my life, I might have been one of them.
Gypsy was tall and curvy in all the right places, flaunting a body not even an airbrush could replicate. Her presence radiated sexuality. Femininity. Sharp cheekbones and boldly arched brows highlighted the beauty of her face, but the real Achilles’ heel was her plump red lips. She was the woman who brought men to heel, her siren’s song luring them toward an unknown hell.
Her beauty wasn’t her only asset, but it was the only one she ever learned to use. If I were a sexually motivated man, I might have considered her a nice trophy, but to me, she was just another tragedy.
“You’re going to be my wife,” I told her.
Her lips tilted at the corners. She was amused by the idea, and she didn’t hide it. “Yeah, right.”
I drained my glass and wiped the condensation from my hand with a napkin. “Here is my offer. The only offer you will get from me.”
Her smile dissolved as I retrieved the pre-nup from my briefcase and tossed it in front of her. Dark chestnut hair fell around her shoulders as she leaned forward to read, her eyes narrowing farther with every flip of the page.
“Why would you do this?” She peered up at me. “You know what I do. Who I am. Surely even an asshole like you can find a wife who wouldn’t put you through hell.”
“It would be a mistake to lump me into the same category as the men you’ve fooled,” I assured her. “You won’t make my life hell because you will never have that power in this situation.”
“Of course not.” Her jaw tightened. “Because you aren’t looking for a wife. You’re looking for a puppet.”
“For the purpose of transparency, I will give you that. Your role is what I say, when I say it. You fulfill your end of the bargain for as long as I want, and then I will set you free. If you don’t, then I will use my digital Rolodex to destroy you and your sister’s lives.”
She shoved the papers back in my direction and shook her head in disgust. “I won’t do it. You can forget it.”
I stood, buttoning my suit jacket. “Suit yourself then.”
She rose too, like a queen from the flames of her throne. “Where is my sister?”
“You have seventy-two hours, and then the offer is forfeited.”
EVEN THOUGH MY AUDI R8 was built for speed and power, I’d never really tested its capabilities like I did on the way home. Gunning it through the streets of Vegas had always been too risky, and I didn’t need that type of attention. But in this case, the cops were the least of my concerns.
