Page 50 of Love Her

I spread my hands. “She has more fortitude than you think—did you not just see her? After this show, they’re sending that woman to the burn ward.”

Nero snorted softly. “Yeah. She’s great. Up until she doesn’t get her way.” I could see him wrestling with himself, and I suspected we’d never be having this conversation without the Christmas-tree flavored alcohol in his hand. “She’s cut herself before.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because after I go, someone needs to know.”

“And that someone isn’t Senator St. Clair?”

“He got it all in briefings. He’s busy surrounding her in cashmere as we speak. Once this election season’s over, she’ll just do a yearly interview with Town and Country. Run a few charities. Volunteer.”

“And you think she’s going to thank you for that life, after you die? You think that will make her happy?”

Nero gave me a disgusted look with his exhaustion hooded eyes. “You think happiness is important? Please, Rhaim—we’re men.”

“I’m going to need you to be a hell of a lot clearer then,” I snapped. “If St. Clair already knows everything he needs to, then why tell me shit?”

“Because she burned down my mansion!” His gin-holding hand trembled, and he set down the glass—probably because he was tempted to throw it. “It’s why I sent her to boarding school,” he went on, in a quieter tone.

I frowned at him. “That…wasn’t the Cubans?”

I had interrogated some men rather roughly on the matter, after Nero had told me to—roughly unto death—and the entiretime he’d been fixated on them, saying they were the cause—and I believed him.

After all, he was the one who’d been burned, hauling Freddie Sr out of the fire.

“No. It was Lia.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I just am, Rhaim,” he said, wearily. “But she’s a ticking time bomb. Just like her mother. And—yes, I’ll admit it—just like me. And no, St. Clair doesn’t know that, he doesn’t need to.”

“But I do?”

“Because after I die, she’ll be your problem. Keep an eye on her from a distance. I don’t give a shit if she’s happy—just don’t let her burn.”

I sat there, my elbows on my knees, wanting to claim her in front of him—but also knowing if I did, he would never forgive my trespass, and he would kick me out of Corvo so fast my head would spin—plus send Rio after me with a Glock.

“Don’t you have a job here?” Nero asked, clucking his tongue at me. “After you shower—you stink?—”

“Yeah,” I said, standing up again. “And I’ve got some contracts I need you to sign.”

“Bring them up this afternoon. Until then, I’ll be taking a nap,” he said, stretching out across his couch.

26

LIA

Katerina Vale could not get me out of her studio fast enough—and Arnold was waiting right outside the door, staring at his phone.

I was tempted to sidle past him, see if I could hit the streets, and then after that, just keep running—but then he looked up.

I recognized his expression, I’d seen it many times before.

“You want to be mad at me, don’t you…but you can’t.”

“Let me be very frank with you, Miss Ferreo, you’re not supposed to have opinions of your own.” He frowned and pushed his glasses higher on his nose. “That said though, you’re definitely trending.”

“Hooray,” I said, as flatly as possible—then started edging away. “I’m free until noon, right?” I’d accepted a calendar request to do lunch at Frammento with Marcus and his twin boys, and while I imagined liking nothing less, I still had to stay in the saddle.

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