“You better tell her, or I will,” Emrick snarled out.
Reaching up to touch Cade’s arm, he tensed under his jacket at my touch, but I didn’t pull away. “Cade, what’s going on?”
Emrick had moved away to sit back down, crossing his ankle over his knee and leaning back, watching us as though we were his personal entertainment. Cade looked at the floor, grinding his teeth as a flush worked its way up his neck.
“Your father wasn’t who you think he was, Nikki,” he said after a pause. Sighing, he raised his eyes to mine, shining with pain and uncertainty.
“Turns out your boyfriend isn’t who you think he is either.” Emrick chuckled, and I ignored him. I wanted to know what Cade knew.
Swallowing against the dryness in my mouth and throat, I asked, “What do you mean?”
“Your father…” Cade closed his eyes before looking at me again. “His real name was Mitch Murphy. I assume he created the alias to protect his family.” Cade tossed a look at Emrick, who smirked, and Cade snarled in return. “He ran a large underground crime network in this city, one of the most powerful. He wasn’t a good man. He killed several people and made his money at the expense of the less fortunate using intimidation and torture. Beyond that, his fortune was grown from drugs and illegal gambling.”
The sound from the club’s music was muted, and the room was shrinking to engulf me, the walls moving in and the lights too bright. Swallowing again, I licked my lips.God, I needed a drink.But not water, something stronger. Why would he be telling me this? Why was Cade saying these things?
“You’re lying,” I choked out.
He shook his head, slow, remorseful movements. “I’m sorry, angel, but I’m not.” He gestured around the club. “This was his. He ran his business from here.”
“But…”
Butwhat?What was I going to say?
Dad was an extraordinarily rich man, but you can become rich from working in real estate if you know what you’re doing. And so what if he went away a lot on business trips? That wasn’t unusual for someone in his position.
But all the properties? They simply disappeared when he was killed. Expertly.
So if his murder wasn’t a crime organization taking my father out for his properties and assets, then it was…
“A change of ownership,” I said quietly.
Turning to Emrick, he still had that smug fucking grin plastered on his face. My world falling around my shoulders was amusing to him, and he took pleasure in the fact that he hadcausedmy pain. What kind of sick fuck did that?
“You,” I said, pointing at Emrick, “If this was my father’s business, and it’s yours now, thenyoukilled him. You fucking monster!”
Cade’s fingers scraped my arm as he reached out to grab me, but I launched myself across the room, desperate to get my hands around Emrick’s neck, and was met with the solid wall which was the chest of one of his guards. He’d been on the other side of the room—his reflexes must have been incredible to get in front of me so quickly. I struggled against his hold, but he spun me and wrapped his arms around me, crushing my arms to my sides as I kicked out and fought against him. Cade cried out for him to let me go as he, too, was grabbed, but he didn’t go down as easy. It took three of the men to restrain him, pressing him against the floor and using their weight to hold him down as he continued to writhe.
Emrick stood again, and when he traced a finger down my cheek, I shuddered. “Shh…” he shushed me gently, the sound crawling against my skin and sending goose bumps exploding across my arms. “Nikki, Nikki, Nikki… what a shock this mustbe for you.” He continued to touch my cheek, and I snapped my teeth at him, hating the way he laughed as he drew his hand away from my face. “Look into my eyes, Nikki.” Reluctantly I did and couldn’t look away as he held my gaze, taking a long moment to simply stare at me before he stated resolutely, “I didn’t kill your father.”
We stared at each other for a beat longer.
I believed him.
“You could be making this up,” I said, grasping at straws and hoping.
Emrick stalked off, disappearing into a door behind where he had sat. I remained in the hold of the bouncer until Emrick returned and shoved a framed picture in my hand. Craning my neck to look over the large arm of the man who held me, I took in the image of my father, feet up on a large desk, cigar in mouth, and stacks of cash on either side of him.
“This doesn’t prove anything,” I spat. “So he came to the club? So what?”
Emrick ignored me. “He was a vain fucker. Who keeps photos of themselves in their office anyway? But there are a dozen employees still here who would ID him as Mitch.” Emrick’s lip curled into a sneer, amusement flashing in his eyes. “And all of those would attest to the type of man he was, if you fancy to question them. But perhaps you’re not ready to hear what a sick fuck he was. He was me beforeIwas me.”
“Do you know who killed him?” I asked again, but my certainty that I wanted to know the truth was ebbing away with each passing moment. Emrick claimed that people could identify my father as Mitch Murphy, but they were under Emrick’s employ and wouldn’t tell me anything unless instructed.
But what did Emrick have to gain from lying to me?
This isn’t where I thought this investigation would lead. When I saw the club, I assumed that it would lead me tothe people responsible for Dad’s murder, not an unwelcome revelation about his history. A revelation I wasn’t convinced I was certain of.
But doubt was a powerful motivator.
