Page 59 of His Lair
“Lailani is… Lailani,” he says.
“Cut the crap, E. How do you know her and what the fuck was that shit she pulled at Carlo’s?”
“You mean saving the lives of my girlfriend and niece? That was her doing the job I pay her to do,” he tells me.
“You pay her… You planted a spy in our casinos?” What the fuck is going on? She’s been here for months, long before Evie or Jazzy turned up.
“I planted someone I trusted to protect my friends. Not a fucking spy.” His voice is calm, assertive, which is really starting to piss me off even more.
“Did Louie know?” I grunt.
“Did I know what?” Louie says from behind me. I spin around and face my best friend.
“Did you know he planted Lailani at the Royal? That she works for him?” I ask him. All these fuckers knew I’ve been seeing her, knew I’ve been trying to protect her from the dangers of our world, at the same time knowing she was part of it.
“No, I didn’t know.” Louie’s gaze falls to Emmanuel. “You planting spies?”
“Pfft, if I wanted to spy on anyone, it wouldn’t be you boring fuckers. She was there as a precaution. Protection and nothing more,” Emmanuel says.
“Protection from what?” Louie asks.
“I’m going to pretend not to be fucking offended you think we need a woman to protect us,” I scoff, falling onto the sofa.
“She’s not an ordinary woman. Lailani is the most-skilled assassin I know,” Emmanuel explains. “She’s the best of the best.”
“Were you ever going to tell me I was fucking sleeping with an assassin?” I yell.
He lifts a questioning brow. “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it fucking matters,” I groan.
“Why?” he presses.
“Because the woman I just fucking fell in love with doesn’t even exist.” I stand, walk over to the bar, and help myself to a glass of tequila. Not my usual go-to but this asshole has a taste for the shit. And right now, I’ll drink anything to take the edge off.
“You fell in love?” This comes from Louie.
“No, I thought I did. You can’t fall in love with someone who isn’t real,” I remind him. “I might as well have an imaginary girlfriend.”
“She’s real,” Emmanuel says. “And whatever you think of her, it’s not her fault. She was doing a job.”
“Oh, that makes it so much better. I’m a job.” I laugh.
“No,youshe did for free, because for some fucked-up reason, she likes you.” He aims a finger at me.
“Where is she?” I ask. Maybe I need to hear this shit from her.
“Why?” Emmanuel folds his arms over his chest. “You might be my friend, Sammie. But so is she, and I won’t have you going apeshit on her because you got your feelings fucking hurt.”
“Where is she?” I repeat.
Emmanuel doesn’t answer. Instead, he sits back in his chair and raises another eyebrow. Fucker isn’t going to tell me.
“I’m not going to fucking hurt her,” I huff in frustration.
E throws his head back and laughs at me. “I would actually pay to see you try,” he says. “Last I heard, she was heading to the armory.”
I just saw her put down three fucking men without breaking a sweat, so why am I surprised she’s in the Lopez armory?
