Page 75 of Love Me Darkly
They dismissed her, going back to their conversation while she crouched to pick up the cracked flute. She made quick work of laying out their bottle service before collecting everything and making her escape. Finding the booth next to them empty, she fell onto the black leather sofa and tossed her tray down. She was suddenly dizzy and out of sorts, her heart taking up a rapid cadence against her ribs.
Loved? Had she really convinced herself that what Mateo felt toward her could in any way be misconstrued as love? Infatuation, sure. Obsession, absolutely. Sympathy, no question. But love?
She was projecting. This was nothing more than the fantasy of the little girl inside her, that pesky piece of her heart that still remained even after all she had endured. She was so starved for affection, so lonely in a world filled with people who only wanted her for what she could give them, that she’d interpreted simple acts of kindness as something else. She had twisted their significance, telling herself they meant things they didn’t. Mateo was stressed, lonely, and grieving. He had latched onto her for reasons she couldn’t understand; that even he didn’t seem to understand. That didn’t equal love. He didn’t know her, not really. He still didn’t know the truth.
“The fuck was wrong with that bitch?”
Melody perked up as the voices of the men in VIP 3 drifted toward her.
“Probably nervous … feds have been hanging around the club ...”
“No fucking way.”
Melody almost doubled over, one hand braced against her belly. How the hell did they know about the feds? Did they know about Mateo specifically? She held her breath and leaned around the side of her couch. She didn’t want them to notice her lingering nearby, but could only make out so much of what they were saying.
“ … Suede, Wilson, and Morrison … all arrested …”
“Security will be tight … Korenic won’t risk it … eyes everywhere.”
“Gonna have to lay low for a while.”
They abruptly changed the subject, so Melody slowly eased back upright on the sofa. She remained where she sat long enough that they might not notice her walking away. Picking up the tray, she rushed back to the bar and hurled everything down in front of Rudy.
“Gotta pee,” she announced. “Be right back.”
She ignored him yelling after her that she’d just come off a break, nearly colliding with a group of drunk girls coming from downstairs as she made her way back to the break room. Slamming the door behind her, she leaned against it, relieved to find the room still empty. Her breath burned in her lungs, and her heart now beat so hard and fast she feared it might leap out of her throat.
It made sense for Korenic and his associates to fear the feds after the raids. But if Suede and the others had all talked, the FBI had to know about the connection to Roman, who owned Solstice. She wasn’t sure if Roman had actual proof that Mateo and his crew had been sniffing around at the club, but that didn’t matter. If Roman didn’t know exactly who was closing in on him, he would find out. He always did.
This was exactly what she had tried to warn Mateo about. She had seen this coming the moment she’d realized he wasn’t just coming to Solstice for pretty waitresses and bad Scotch.
Pushing away from the door, she went back to her locker and retrieved her phone. With shaking hands, she typed in Mateo’s number. Staring at the cursor, she chewed her lip and considered what she might say. She didn’t want to worry him, or he’d come running right this second, and that was the last thing she needed. But she had to see him before Glow Night, warn him that he was close to being compromised. While she was at it, maybe she could tell him the rest of it. Maybe he would understand and help her like he’d promised. Maybe …
“No,” she whispered to herself, blinking back tears. “It has to be a clean break.”
There would be no way out of this for him otherwise. If she didn’t protect him, he would get himself killed. And she could only protect him if she pushed him away. She had her own plans, which had been in place since before she’d known of Mateo’s existence. She would make sure he stayed away this time, and then look out for herself as she always had. It was the only way. Before she could talk herself out of it, she shot off her message before shoving her phone back into her bag and hurrying back to work.
We need to talk. Tomorrow night. Before Glow.
Mateo rushed into his hotel room, dropping everything he carried and rushing toward the bathroom. He only had a few hours before he would meet up with Donovan to head to Solstice for Glow Night. He had spent the morning and afternoon in conferences with various team members. There were numerous logistics to attend to while preparations were made for the upcoming nationwide raid, and the surveillance on the temple of The Veil.
He had spent hours doing undercover prep with Jones. During breaks, Mateo reviewed the finer points of his cover with Darcy, called in to see how Smith’s efforts with Caleb were going, and consulted with Williams on the proposal for the undercover operation. There had even been time for a quick call to Valentina during his lunch break. Angelica had been at school, but he’d been content enough with a report that she was safe and eating and sleeping as she should. Lessons at her new ballet school began last week and she already like her instructor.
There wasn’t much time for him to shower and get dressed before heading to Melody’s apartment. He would need to approach carefully, making sure he wasn’t seen or followed before he could climb up to her balcony. Her text had been on his mind since it came through last night, sending a spike of unease through him. He hadn’t responded, unsettled by her sudden message after their casual flirtation earlier. The suddenness of it had him wondering if something had happened. Whatever it was, she couldn’t risk a phone call or a more detailed text. Something was wrong.
Mateo fought to calm his racing thoughts while speeding through a shower and a change of clothes. Melody was probably just nervous about Korenic coming back to town. She needed him to reassure her that he had things well in hand, that she was safe. He could give her that before shifting his focus to his mission for the night. Maybe seeing each other beforehand would be a good idea—making it easier for them to pretend to ignore one another once they were at Solstice. He would hold her, kiss her, and reassure her, and everything would be fine. It would be easier to give her those reassurances after the revelations of the past few days and the progress that had been made.
Once he was dressed, his eyes fell on his laptop, which sat open on the desk. He tapped a key to unlock it and typed in his passkeys. There were several layers of security to get through before he could access the encrypted government-issue computer, and he performed them all mechanically.
It was probably too soon for him to get anything interesting off the Korenic penthouse wiretap; the man had only just arrived that morning and probably hadn’t spent much time at home. Still, the software indicated that a few recordings were waiting to be listened to. The wire had picked up a conversation or two. He had showered and changed quickly enough to have time to listen before leaving.
Sinking into the chair, Mateo took up his earbuds and connected them. He poured himself a half-tumbler of Scotch before pressing play on the first one. It was nothing but the sounds of Roman arriving at the penthouse, his luggage being dragged across the carpet, and orders being barked at a maid. Mateo closed the audio file and pulled up another, this one a phone call. Korenic was talking to someone in a foreign language that Mateo couldn’t decipher, his tone sharp and ruthless. His accent was thicker in his native tongue, the syllables curving off his tongue and the consonants biting. He ended the call with a string of what sounded like curses before the sound of something crashing against a wall exploded in Mateo’s ear. The next two recordings were similar, with Mateo growing bored and checking the time as he came to the end. There was one more recording, and it was longer than the others. Significantly longer. Had Korenic had a visitor?
Sitting up straight, Mateo pressed play. Roman’s voice came through first, so loud that Mateo had to turn down the volume to keep from cringing. The man was clearly pissed.
“I don’t want excuses, you pathetic fuck! I want answers! What’s the use of having NOPD in our pocket if shit like this is going to happen?”
No response that Mateo could hear, which meant this was likely another phone call. Mateo took another sip of Scotch, settling in for another snoozer. It occurred to him that he might be right that Korenic wasn’t the UNSUB. He had heard the UNSUB’s voice twice now, and there had been no hint of a foreign accent.
