Sin and Ghost exchange a look. Some silent communication passes between them, and I hold my breath, waiting.
But Nitro explodes again. “Pres, youcan’ttell her. She’ll print it, and everything we’ve worked for, everything Marcus died for, will be fornothing.”
My world stops.
Everything Marcus died for.
Not how Marcus died.
The distinction crashes over me like ice water.They know. They know something about my brother I don’t.
“What do you mean?” My voice comes out strangled, but I have to play this right. I have to stay in character. “What did he die for?”
Sin raises a hand, silencing Nitro’s protest. Those mismatched eyes bore into mine, searching, weighing, deciding. The silence stretches so long I think I might scream.
“Is anything we sayoff the record?” Sin finally asks. “Can we trust youat all?”
My mind races, the weight of gravity pulling me into this moment. The moment I’ve been working toward since I walkedthrough these doors. The truth about Marcus is right there, inches away, and all I have to do is say the right words.
“Yes.” The word comes out hoarse. “This conversation is off the record. You have my word.”
Nitro makes a sound of disgust. “Herword? That’s worth about as much as—”
“Enough.” Sin’s command cuts through the room. He keeps his eyes locked on mine, searching for something. Truth, maybe. Or trustworthiness. I don’t know what he is looking for, but all I am sending him back is clear desperation.
Because that’s what I am.
Desperate for answers on my brother.
“We’ll tell you what happened to Marcus.” My heart stutters. “But Elizabeth…” He leans forward, and the weight of his stare pins me to the chair. “This information doesn’t leave this room. It affects more people than you know. It goes higher than you know. We’re still working on it. If you spill a word of this, you’ll jeopardize lives.Do. You. Understandthe importance?”
I nod, unable to speak.
Sin takes a breath, and for the first time since I’ve known him, he looks tired. Worn down by the weight of secrets. “Marcus was a good man,” he begins. “One of the best prospects we’d ever had. Moral compass like you wouldn’t believe. He couldn’t stand by when he saw something wrong.” He pauses. “That’swhat got him killed.”
The room spins, and I grip the edge of the table to steady myself, trying to look like a shocked journalist instead of a devastated sister.
“He was doing security runs for us at various clubs,” Sin continues. “And he stumbled onto something. Girls being moved through private casino rooms. Young women disappearing into the underground network.” His voice hardens. “Marcus discovered that Captain Victor Rourke, a high-ranking memberof the Las Vegas Police Department, was working with The Hidden Hand Alliance.”
My stomach falls through the floor, but I try to keep my face impartial.
“Rourke is giving the Alliance certain freedoms to traffic the women in the city. Basically, the Alliance pays him off, and he looks the other way, or even helps them out of sticky situations. Having a captain of the police on side is helpful. Why do you think they’re able to run the casinos in Vegas like they do, going unchecked?”
My eyes widen, shock registering on my face. It hits like a freight train, my breath caught in my throat as I stare blankly at Sin like my world is falling out from beneath me. “That’s…” I breathe. “That’s impossible. A police captain?”
“It’s true.” Ghost’s voice is quiet but certain. “Marcus gathered evidence. He was planning to turn it over to the FBI. But Rourke found out.”
My vision tunnels, the walls close in, but I have to keep playing the role, I have to react like Elizabeth Hale, the journalist, not Victoria Delaney, the sister and rookie detective.
“What h-happened?” I whisper.
“Rourke pulled him over,” Sin says, each word careful and deliberate. “Made it look like a routine traffic stop. He shot Marcus. Planted drugs on him. Then called it in as a DUI. Said Marcus was so inebriated with drugs that he wrecked his bike, and that killed him.”
He pauses before continuing, “But Marcus’ bike wasn’t damaged, so Rouke grabbed a tire iron from his patrol car and made sure to make it look like it was. We knew Marcus was a hardnofor drugs, so that’s also what made us start digging. There was no autopsy because Rourke didn’t want the death to be ruled as a gunshot. He just made it all disappear like it meant nothing.
“But we saw the red flags instantly. So,westarted digging, and Ghost hacked into Marcus’ cell and found a voice recording around the time of his death. The fucker had his cell recording the entire incident in his jeans pocket. But because it’s just a voice clip, it’s not admissible in court. We couldn’t use it as evidence against Rourke, so once we put all the pieces together… well, we’ve been trying to figure out a way to bring this fucker down ever since.”
A strangled sound escapes my throat before I can stop it. I press my hand to my mouth, and this time the tears that spring to my eyes are genuinely raw and uncontrollable. “That’s not possible,” I manage. “The report said it was a motorcycle accident. I researched it. There were photos of the scene—”
