Page 9 of Ruin Me With Lies
“Nowhere, really,” I answer.“I moved around my whole life.Home-schooled.But I spent the most time in France, so if I had to pick a place, I guess that would be it.”
“What are you running from?Why do you need our protection?”
“My parents.They’re...influential.”I pause, then shrug.“I’m running because they want to marry me off to some scary old geezer for ‘alliance’ purposes.But it’s more because they’re selfish, greedy assholes.”
“Who’re your parents?”
“Pierre and Helen Michel.You can look them up.”
“Siblings?”
“A twin brother.Nonidentical.”
He drags a hand down his lightly bearded jaw, studying me.
We have something in common.A twin.Except mine’s a psychotic demon.
“Lo…” Luca calls from the window.“He’s back.”
Lorenzo straightens and strolls over, standing beside him.“Doesn’t look good.”
My heart lurches.
Is it him?
I bet it’s him.
Quietly, I stand from the couch and sidle up behind the two broad-shouldered men.Just close enough to peek below.
I knew it.
Striding through the busy casino, Stefano Castello looks like he just walked out of a hell made of blood and bones.His expensive black suit is creased and sullied, his white shirt splattered red, a gun clutched in one hand.
People leap out of the way, parting like the Red Sea.Some gamblers glance up at the commotion, then go right back to minding their business.Just another Wednesday night at Black Gold.Only the obvious tourists gape in shock and horror.
Stefano glares thunderously at anyone too slow to clear his path, looking as if he wants to lasso the sun from the sky and snuff it out with his bare hands.
“Take the girl to the villa,” Lorenzo tells Luca.“He won’t be receptive in this state.”
As Luca turns to leave, Lorenzo adds, “Andstaythere.You’re off rotation for the night.Get in some fucking sleep.”
Luca huffs in protest, but doesn’t argue.He prods my shoulder then grabs my backpack from the couch as he goes.“Let’s go.”
By the time we step into the smoky room that overlooks the casino floor, Stefano is gone.The men inside seem on edge, their movements sharp with unease.
Luca grips my arm and urges me toward the door.“Hurry it up, smart girl.When the boss is like this, no one’s safe.If he walks in and sees an unfamiliar face, he might just shoot us both.”
~
NINE YEARS AGO, the Castellos bought out a bankrupt golf course community, gutted it, and rebuilt it into Mirabella Villa, their home and base of operations.
Now, the towering, gilded gates of Mirabella Villa remain closed in front of us while two security guards thoroughly search Luca’s car, inside and out.
“You’re not exactly a trusted soldier, huh?”I poke at Luca.
Taking no offense, he yawns.“Things are a little… tense right now.Protocol’s protocol.No exceptions.”
“Stringent.”
