Page 13 of Devious Truth

“Can you just go now?” I stomp past him and yank the door open.

“You’ll let me know when you’ve made some headway?” He pauses in the open doorway. “I’m due back next week, so we don’t have a lot of time before Declan wonders where I’ve gone off to.”

“I’ll let you know. Now go.”

“Hmph. I’d think you’d be a little nicer to the man who has your future in his hands.” He stops just outside my door. “If I don’t hear from you in three days, I call Declan.”

“It might take longer than that.”

“Your problem. Not mine,” he says.

I slam the door and immediately slide the chain lock in place and lock the deadbolt. Not that the lock did anything to keep him out the first time.

“I look forward to hearing from you,” he calls from the other side of the door.

I lean my ear to the door and listen for his footsteps. Minutes pass, and I don’t hear anything else on the other side, so I slink to the couch.

I pick up the empty bottle of wine that’s sitting on top of a picture frame I placed face down and bring it to the trash can. My attention wanders back to the coffee table, to the frame. Like a moth flying headfirst into a flame, I go back to the couch and pick up the photo as I sink onto the worn-out cushions.

Tears blur my vision as I flip it over to see him.

To see us.

“How am I going to get that asshole into one of those games?” I put the question to the photograph of my husband holding me, his hands protectively splayed across my very pregnant belly.

But corpses don’t speak from the grave, so I stare at him until the alarm on my phone blasts.

There’s something going on with Vivienne. It’s as obvious as the pretty brown freckle just above her left eyebrow, but she’s hiding herself.

I was clear that I wanted to see her when she came in, sending word down to the club for her to come up to my office as soon as she arrived. She never showed.

Now I’m stuck in a meeting with my brothers and two of our closest friends. I’ll have to wait until this is over before I hunt her down.

“Earth to Ivan.” Kaz elbows my side.

“I’m here.” I cross my arms over my chest and listen as our oldest brother Alexander explains the deal he wants to make with Vasily Leonov.

It’s a solid alliance, and with the DeAngelo family stirring up so much shit, having more friends will give us strength.

The office door opens, drawing my attention. Vivienne walks in, carrying a bottle of whiskey.

Her thick blonde hair is swept up into one of those claw clips. A pair of silver earrings dangle from her earlobes, and she’s painted her lips with a dark mulberry lipstick. The Obsidian uniform she’s wearing hugs her curves. It’s a fitted dress and all the waitresses wear them, but Vivienne is the only one who can steal my attention from even the most important meetings.

“Sorry to interrupt. Darren said to bring this up for you.” She holds out the bottle.

We have two more of them in the wet bar in the corner. Why would Darren send her up with another? Alexander’s office is always well stocked.

I remove myself from the group and take the bottle from her hands. She spins on her short heel, going for a quick escape. As she twists a dark spot on her arm catches my attention, and I grab her elbow, pulling her back to me.

My blood boils at the sight on her arm. A bruise circles her arm, just above the elbow. Like someone grabbed her and wouldn’t let go.

“What is this?” I demand, letting go of her arm. If there’s a bruise there, she may be tender further up as well. And as much as I’d love to see her squirm beneath my punishing hand, it would never be like this. Never with anger, and never with an intent to harm.

No, my harshness right now isn’t intended for her; it’s meant for the bastard that dared touch her.

“It’s nothing.” She covers the mark with her hand as she retreats a step.

I settle a hot glare on her. “Who did it?”

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