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“And this.” She held up the money. “Plus, my jewelry is still on the dresser.”
“Right, and a thief wouldn’t change your locks.”
“Exactly, so who would’ve—”
“The Monroes.”
Lisbeth’s mouth fell open, then snapped shut. “No. Why would they do this? Just because I broke off the engagement? I don’t believe that.”
“First, they wanted to inconvenience you by being locked out of your apartment; then they trashed your place to let you know what they’re capable of doing.”
“I . . . I don’t know. It just seems so . . .” Lisbeth’s voice faded because she couldn’t wrap her head around this kind of destruction on any level, but thinking the Monroes had a hand in it just seemed unfathomable.”
“I’ve seen it before. It’s calledsending a message.” He nodded toward the bedroom. “Go grab a few things. Whatever else you need we can buy 'cause you’re coming by me. No fuckin’ way you’re staying here tonight.”
Her first reaction was to resist. She’d been so used to dealing with issues alone that Samson’s firm, straightforward order threw her. The idea of being dependent on him set off a few silent alarms, but what choice did she have? Lisbeth couldn’t stay here until she cleaned up, and if she went to a hotel, Samson would probably stay with her, so the logical answer was to go to his place.
“I made a few phone calls. We should have some answers by tonight. Then I can figure out how to move forward.”
“Move forward?” She narrowed her eyes. “I’ll have to come back tomorrow to clean this up, and then—”
“You’re not getting it, babe. This was done intentionally as petty revenge for you breaking it off with that douchebag, or more likely because you’re with me.”
“But I told Edward I didn’t break up with him because of you. I made it clear you had nothing to do with it, and it was all on me.”
Samson choked out a low chuckle. “I love your logic, but we’re not dealing with logical people. We’re dealing with people who live for revenge—those who would sell a twelve-year-old into prostitution.”
Lisbeth tried to hide her gasp, but Samson was right, and Willow confirmed it not eight hours ago
“So, there’s no fuckin’ way you’re coming back here.”
* * *
When they arrived at the penthouse, Samson got Lisbeth settled in, then walked across the hall to talk to Nick. One way or another, this bullshit was about to stop. The overdose at the club, the cops closing them down for a week, and now Lisbeth’s place getting trashed—no, this wasn’t any fuckin’ coincidence.
“I understand what you’re saying, but I still think it’s a mistake.” Nick knocked a Marlboro out of the pack on his coffee table and lit up. “Bringing Frank in on any level is just asking for more bullshit.”
Samson valued Nick’s opinion but wasn’t looking for his approval. His mind was made up and being a stubborn fucker was one of Samson’s least favorite traits.
“Look, if we were still back in New York, I’d agree with you, but we’re not.”
“If we were back in New York, you never would’ve hooked up with Lisbeth again, so maybe you’re right.”
“Don’t dump this shit on her. She had no idea what the Monroes were into, just like most people he deals with daily. Even the search we did before meeting with him didn’t turn up the dark shit he was into. This bastard is good at covering his tracks and has the money to make it happen.”
“What about the Serpents? They know how shit works out here, and they got the right connections.”
“Mamba and Cobra made it clear they wanna stay far-the-fuck-away from Alex Monroe. Even their pull with Metro couldn’t keep the cops from closing the club for a week while they conduct an investigation everybody knows is bullshit, including the cops.”
Nick drew deep on his smoke, and Samson resisted the temptation to grab one for himself. “Where’s Lisbeth now?”
“Next door at my place.” Samson met Nick’s gaze head-on.
“Shit. You’re goin’ right back down that same fuckin’ road again.”
“Don’t.” Samson threw up his palm. “You ain’t gonna change my mind about her 'cause it’s for real this time.”
“You can’t save them all.” Nick blew out the last of the smoke, then crushed the butt in the glass ashtray. “I just hope you know what you’re doin’ 'cause the last time you got involved with her, and it didn’t work out, you took a nose dive into a pile of coke.”
