Page 62 of The Sweetest Revenge

"Ariella." The way he said my name—low, rough, almost a growl, sent heat curling in my stomach. His hands bracketed my head, his body forming a cage of muscle and barely-leashed control. "What are you hiding from me?"

Slowly shaking my head, I made the mistake of meeting his eyes, wide with something that wasn't just anger. My breath caught, drawing in the scent of him—clean sweat and pure male. His gaze dropped to my lips as I pressed them together, and the temperature between us spiked. The smallest movement would bring us together or could shatter everything.

"Liar." He moved closer, each inch between us crackling with electricity. His breath fanned across my lips, and memory flooded my senses—the taste of him, the way he'd once made me forget everything but his touch. "Your pulse is racing, baby. Is that fear—" His fingers ghosted over my throat. "Or something else?"

I shoved my hands into his hard chest as I averted my gaze. "No, I'm not lying."

He grabbed my wrists, slamming them into the wall above my head. "Yes, you are." His grip tightened around my wrist as he pushed his pointer finger into my palm. "You want to know how I know?" I bit down on my bottom lip but didn't answer. "Because you chew the corner of your lip when you lie."

A chill crawled down my spine as recognition hit. He was right, and the fact that he still knew me made my skin prickle. I forced my teeth to release my lip, tasting the faint impression they'd left behind. "It's a nervous tick."

He shook his head. "No, when you're nervous, your hands fidget."

I met those infuriatingly knowing blue eyes, trying to forge my unease into something sharper, safer, like annoyance. But my racing pulse betrayed me. A year apart, and he could still read me like a book he'd memorized.

"You don't know me." I breathed. Heat bloomed where his chest nearly touched mine.

"You're wrong, baby." His voice roughened as he traced his nose along my jawline. "I've made you my life's study. Every reaction—" His lips brushed mine, making me shiver. "Every emotion—" His eyes darkened as they tracked the movement. "If they'd offered a degree in Ariella Ledger, I would've written the textbook." My breath hitched. "So I know when you're lying, and right now you are lying."

"I think someone tampered with Kacie's brakes." The words came out in a rush.

Zaiden went still, the deadly stillness of a predator processing a threat. His fingers tightened on my wrists for one burning moment before he released me and stepped back.

"Explain." The command was barely more than a whisper, but it filled the space between us.

I gulped in air, my lungs finally remembering how to work. "A walk." My hand trembled as I gestured toward the door. "I can't, I need air."

"If you try to run—" The threat coiled beneath his words.

"I won't." We both knew the truth—he was faster, stronger, and far more ruthless. Running was just another way to lose.

I followed him out of our home gym, through the house, to the backyard. "Now talk."

"Mila's brother was there that night. He was doing a ride-along when they found Kacie. She wasn't drunk, Zaiden. Before she—" The word 'died' lodged in my throat. "She told them her brakes failed."

"No." Zaiden's face drained of color. "The police report—" His fingers curled into fists. "The official report said?—"

"The official report lied." I wrapped my arms around myself as a cool gust of wind swirled around me. "Which makes me think something is off. I think someone might have been trying to kill her."

He shook his head again. "Who would want my sister dead?"

"I don't know, but that morning, she told me she'd found something out and needed to talk to me, but she didn't say what. She wanted to talk in person." My gaze darted around as I tried to piece everything together. "Your dad is a powerful man. Maybe someone killed her to get to your dad."

Zaiden's eyes widened. "She was driving my mom's car that night. Maybe it was my mom who was the target."

Zaiden's mom and sister drove the same car, right down to the interior and exterior colors. So it would be hard to tell the difference if you didn't know. "Why?"

"It was a last-minute change. Kacie went out to her car, and it wouldn't start, so my mom tossed her the keys to her car."

"But if your mom was the target, then why did they never go after her again?”

He shook his head. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out."

"It's too bad we don't have the car so we could check the brake line to see if it was cut."

"We do." Something dangerous flickered in Zaiden's eyes. "Dad 'inherited' a junkyard a few years back."

"Inherited?"

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