Page 19

Ciro’s breathing changed. “What else?”

“Volkov made the liquor-license suspension disappear too.” I made myself sound pissed instead of worried because Ciro respected anger more than fear.

“He fucking erased it?” Ciro asked.

“Gone. Lachlan bragged about how it evaporated into thin air.”

“The suspension had been processed through both the state and the city.”

“Apparently not solid enough for Volkov.”

Something crashed on Ciro’s end of the call. Glass, maybe. He liked throwing expensive things when people disappointed him.

I waited.

His rage had to burn somewhere. Better in whatever room he was standing in than through me.

“That Russian son of a bitch torched The Sacrifice,” Ciro barked. “He stole my girls, humiliated my men, and thought fire could erase what belonged to me.”

“He definitely doesn’t think small.”

“No. He thinks he is untouchable.” Ciro’s voice dropped lower. “The men of Xyst think the same. They hide behind old families and old rules. They’ve forgotten what pain teaches.”

I leaned against the desk and glanced at the door. “Lachlan doesn’t think he’s the one who needs the lesson.”

Ciro went quiet. “What did he say?”

“He told me I was one wrong move from landing on The Syndicate’s hit list.” A smile tugged at my mouth. “Then he made it very clear that Manhattan belongs to them, not you.”

Ciro laughed under his breath, the sound mean enough to make the hair on my arms rise.

“And yet you are breathing.”

“I told you. I played him. He believes I’m trapped.”

“Is that so?”

“He thinks you forced me into this. That I’m some poor little girl with no way out. He even offered to help me disappear.”

Ciro went quiet again as he sucked on his teeth.

“Tell me exactly what he said.”

“He said he could help me relocate somewhere safe. A new identity, money, everything I’d need to disappear. He thinks I need protection from you.” I glanced at my reflection in the window. My hair still looked perfect. My mouth did not. Kissing Lachlan had smeared my lipstick. “He felt responsible, Ciro. I saw it. He came in ready to kill me and left with a hard-on.”

“You let him touch you?”

“Of course. You should have seen how he held my chin and carefully wiped a tear away. I had him eating out of the palm of my hand.”

Another pause.

Good.

Jealousy made men stupid, but possessive jealousy made them useful.

“You kissed him?” Ciro asked. The possessive edge in his voice made my skin tighten.

“Yes, we kissed.”