Page 29 of SINS & Riley
A smirk threatens, but I bury it deep. Riley could’ve said pretty much anything. My top guesses?
Help, I’m trapped with a psychopath—send an army.
Or, I know where Zver lives. We can burn this motherfucker’s world down, lickety-split.
Or even the kind of sentimental Hallmark moment sisters eat up.
I love you. I miss you. By the way, I might be carrying your husband’s brother’s baby.
But no.
Instead, Riley’s being brave in her own sweet, twisted, totally fucking-up-my-plan-to-hell way.
She’s telling Kennedy not to worry.
And worse, she’s not giving me up.
Not to the D’Angelos.
Not even to the authorities.
Which was the whole point of gift-wrapping her a confidant in the first place.
He carrier-pigeons the message back. My brothers plot a rescue mission. Riley gets to safety without me tipping my whole goddamned hand.
Then I can get back to the real work—taking down my uncle and burning his underworld to ash.
It’s the kind of work that can kill me. And Riley. Which is why I need her and her damn distracting breasts gone.
But I can’t just drop her on the nearest street corner.
Two things happen if I do:
One, my uncle and his deadly parade of villains start circling because Bratva kings don’t let women go. Ever.
And two, we both end up tortured to death.
And with Riley, between her curves and that sharp tongue, they’ll make her their plaything first. Drag it out. Break her until there’s nothing left to fight with.
The thought slams into me, barbed and vicious. A ball of rage I force down.
It’s what they did to my sister.
It’s why I’m here. To make every last motherfucker pay. In blood.
But not yet. Not until I find my father.
I stare down at Riley’s note, and rake a hand through my hair, heat spiking under my skin.
Why the fuck won’t she just work with me for once?
Frustrated, I blow out a breath. “You can go.”
He doesn’t move. Instead, he gives me one sharp shake of the head.
“My notebook.”
I motion for the guards.
