Page 170 of Sinful Lies

I reached into my bag, pulling out the hardware CD—the one with the footage from the surveillance cameras in the alley behind his theater, The Sunflower.

Her eyebrows shot up. “You have it on tape?”

I slid the CD onto the table.

Then, I reached into my bag again, pulling out Angelo’s backup phone and dropping it next to the CD.

I knew he used that backup phone for his shady dealings—something the FBI could easily use to trace every little detail.

I didn’t hand everything over to Alexandra Jasper without purpose. She was the best at what she did, and I also knew her deep ties to the FBI. Her twin sister, Alia Jasper, ran the local division. So, the second I walked out of that office, I knew Alexandra would be on the phone to her sister, giving her all the details.

“I also have proof that Angelo killed two other people.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Who?”

I took a breath, letting the weight of it settle in my chest, feeling the burn of it.

There was no going back.

“Nine years ago, Angelo Lazzio murdered my sister, Stella, and her boyfriend, Thomas… and I watched it all happen.”

Chapter

Thirty-Nine

“The meaning of life is that it stops.”

? Franz Kafka

Jade

21 years old

Nine years ago

“Happy birthday, Jadie!”

I smiled, leaning over to blow out the candles while keeping my hair clear of the flames—a precaution born from my thirteenth birthday disaster when half my hair went up in smoke. Let’s just say the night ended with a burn on my neck, a chunk missing from my head, and the title of Worst. Birthday. Ever.

“Can’t believe my baby’s twenty-one,” Mama said, hugging me with enough force to crack ribs. Tears streamed down her face. “Time sure flies, don’t it?”

Uncle Jake, a walking beer advertisement in his forties, let out his signature wheeze of a laugh and popped open anothercan. “Twenty-one, darlin’! Now I can take ya to my spot and teach ya how to drink like a real lady!”

Before I could respond, Aunt Krissy swooped in with a grin that could only mean trouble. Her bleached-blonde hair defied all odds by still existing, and her bedazzled teeth caught every light in the room.

“Well, honey,” she drawled, “now that you’re legal, it’s time to make some real bad decisions. When I was twenty-one, I?—”

Sparing myself and everyone else, I scooped up a forkful of cake and stuffed it in her mouth before she could regale us with the saga of her tequila-fueled stadium streaking.

She laughed, still chewing, and handed me a foil-wrapped gift. “Happy birthday, birdie. Just don’t expect me to bail you out.”

Inside was a $100 nail salon voucher. “Thanks, Aunt Krissy,” I said, grateful her mischief had come with a practical upside.

The room hummed with chatter as everyone settled in with their cake, but my focus drifted to the window. For the sixth time, I scanned the empty street.

“She’s coming,” Mama reassured me, catching my gaze. “Thomas and she had a fight last night, but they’re meeting to talk it out.”

Uncle Jake snorted, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Told her that boy wasn’t good enough, but she doesn’t listen.”

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