Page 29 of Sinful Lies

He slid into the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind him.

I followed him, my bare feet tapping softly against the pavement until I leaned down and tapped on the passenger window with the tip of my nail.

He lowered it, and I flashed him a wicked smile.

“Thanks, but I’m gonna walk. See you tomorrow morning, boss.”

I didn’t even have time to take a step back.

“Get in the fucking car, Jade.”

My heart fluttered in my chest like a thousand butterflies.

It was the first time he’deversaid my name.

For a second, I debated.

Walk away. Get lost in the night, barefoot andfree.

But instead, I reached for the handle and pulled the door open.

The moment I slid into the car, the scent of him hit me—rich, smoky, with a hint of something dangerous that made the air feel heavier. It wasn’t the luxury of the leather seats that made me uncomfortable, it was the proximity to him—the way the space seemed to shrink, suffocatingly close.

He turned the car on, the engine growling to life as he merged onto the road.

“Tell me what happened.”

I yawned. “No.”

“Who’s the man you knocked out?”

I chuckled darkly, eyes flicking to his profile. “My yoga instructor. Guess I have more strength than I thought.”

“What the fuck did he do?”

I let out a sigh and stared out the window, as if the world outside was more interesting than this conversation. “If I knew you’d interrogate me, I would’ve stayed behind, Lazzio.”

His grip tightened around the steering wheel. “What did he do?”

Fine.

Guess he wasn’t going to let it go.

I leaned back in the seat. “Hurt me—though, not exactly the kind of pain I’d callfun.”

His tongue ran over his lower lip. “Where are your shoes?”

“Left them in the club when I ran away.” I waved my hand dismissively. “Be a sweetheart and ask your buddy Vittori to send them back to me. They were my favorite Louboutins. Oh, and my bag too!”

“You aren’t getting shit back, Miss Whitenhouse. I had to grease the cops with 70K just to get you and your little friend Cheryl out and erase the charges your little yoga instructor tried to play.”

I almost told him Cheryl wasn’t my friend, that I’d never even met the poor woman before tonight, but held my tongue.

Drugs can strip you bare, leave you a shadow of what you used to be. She was a walking reminder of who I could’ve been if I hadn’t pulled myself together.

So yeah, if I could help her for a minute, I didn’t mind—even if it cost Lazzio a little cash. The man’s a freaking billionaire. I’m sure he’ll cry into his silk sheets later.

I tapped my nails against the armrest. “Well, guess you’re notthatmuch of a sweetheart then, are you?”

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