Page 120 of Sinful Lies

“And let’s be real,” she went on. “A man like you, who practically owns the world, dreaming of leaving it behind to float around the moon? Highly unlikely.”

I moved to her ear, my breath brushing against her skin as her hand trailed lower, resting on my back.

“You lost,amore.”

She froze, her body tensing as she pulled back to glare at me.

“Are you seriously telling me you didn’t find that over-pampered demon dog in the streets of Prague?”

“No,” I replied, stealing a quick kiss as she glared harder. “And yes, I own the house in Florence. Good guess, though.”

Her jaw dropped. “You… wanted to be a moon traveler?”

“Astronaut,” I corrected softly.

She shoved me, hard, and I rolled onto my back, laughing as she leaned over me, her eyes blazing with betrayal.

“You—the man who can’t handle turbulence without cursing in three languages—wanted to ride a rocket into space?”

I caught her wrist and pulled her down. “I was seven, Jade. Big dreams, limited logic.”

She groaned, throwing herself back against the pillows as she yanked the covers up to hide her face.

“Come on,” I drawled, as I tugged the blanket down. “I won. Tell me one of your darkest secrets.”

She peeked out, her hair a wild halo around her flushed face.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No.”

She sighed, her lips brushing against mine in a fleeting kiss before she pulled back, her eyes darting away like she was searching for an escape.

“I lied,” she muttered, her voice quieter now. “I do have family back home. I just… don’t talk to them. Haven’t in a long time.”

In the six years Jade Whitenhouse had worked for me, not once had she mentioned a damn thing about friends or family. The only exception had been when Sofiya Melov—Volk’s wife—had started working for me, and the two of them had hit it off.

Best friends ever since, like two sides of a coin I couldn’t flip.

“Why?”

She exhaled sharply, her fingers brushing her lips like she was trying to shove the words back in.

“It’s complicated,” she said, her gaze fixed somewhere just over my shoulder.

“A few weeks ago, you left for a ‘family emergency.’ Was that about them?”

Her head snapped toward me, her eyes narrowing, but there was no real fire behind it. Just exhaustion.

“You noticed that, huh?”

“I notice everything about you,amore.”

She hesitated, her lips parting like she wanted to argue, but then she closed them again, her shoulders sagging slightly.

“It was my mama’s funeral,” she finally admitted, the words barely above a whisper. “She passed away.”

“From what?”

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