Page 2 of Twisted Lies 3
She sputtered with a whiny voice, “I’m not one of your whores. I’ll tell her you blackmailed me into betraying her.”
“I didn’t twist your arm to take the money. And the recording of our business arrangement will surely enlighten Sin.” I continued moving toward the elevator.
Tabitha gasped. “What recording?”
My nostrils flared. “Do you think I would ever make a deal with the devil’s spawn without a backup plan?”
“You’re an asshole,” she shrilled.
“I’ve been called worse by a better class of people.” I pressed the face of my watch against the security pad next to the elevator. “Come on, Tabitha. This is not my first rodeo. By the way, if you’re recording our conversation right now, don’t waste your fucking time. I have so much dirt on your shady dealings with Vargos that by the time I’m done snitching you out to the authorities, you’ll end up in jail, designing uniforms for the entire prison.”
“If you think this is done . . . well, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“It’s done because I said it’s done,” I drawled while watching the green light flash quickly before the elevator door slid open. “Now slither back under the rock you came from.” I hit the power button, and the call terminated before I marched onto the elevator, the door closing behind me.
One quick ride and the elevator door shifted open. I stepped out to find Zuri, my personal assistant. A curvy redhead, she was well dressed in a skintight cream dress, leaning against the wall while swiping her finger across the tablet in her other hand. She glanced up and smiled before pushing away from the wall and swaying toward me.
“Max,” I voice-dialed.
I didn’t break my step, and Zuri naturally kept pace as I strode farther into my soundproofed VIP lounge. It had been built to overlook Noire and provide me with the intimacy and comfort of a sanctuary away from the chaotic, sexually charged energy below.
“Hey, bro,” Max answered.
“Anything interesting going on with Sin?”
Max, my friend and enforcer, had been staking out Sin’s townhouse for days, and so far, there were no signs of anything. More importantly, there had been no male visitors.
“Nothing. What’s up?”
“I just got a call from Tabitha, asking for more money. I need you to find her and shut her up. But don’t kill her. I just want to make a statement that I can find her anytime, anyplace. Call me when it’s done.” Shoving my cell into my pocket, I marched over to my mahogany desk and sank into the leather chair tucked behind it.
“Calhoune just called. He’s on his way,” Zuri informed me.
“When he arrives, make him wait. I can’t have him feeling too confident about our meeting.”
Zuri handed over the tablet. “Here’s Friday’s guest list.”
“When Bigsby shows, I want you to give him some of your smoldering Southern hospitality. Let’s see how committed he is to his meal ticket, Cate Bellisario.”
There was no doubt in my mind that Zuri would have Bigsby’s dick harder than a rock with just one bat of her eyelashes. And when he took the bait, it would be more leverage that could be used to destroy him.
Men were enamored of Zuri’s stunning beauty. She was feminine, delicate, and beguilingly innocent. Politicians, celebrities, businessmen—it didn’t matter. All fell hard for her Lolita ways. That was what made her more than my assistant. She was an integral part of my team.
Zuri flipped her long, thick, red hair. “I’ll make him feel real welcome, ya hear,” she responded, switching seamlessly from her native New York accent to a deep Southern drawl.
I was constantly amazed by her gift for assuming cover identities. It was a skill she’d been taught at a young age to worm her way into the hearts of lonely men while her family of nomadic African travelers and thieves ruthlessly drained their victims’ bank accounts.
“Good. Now take your Southern belle ass out of my sight. I have work to do.” Effectively dismissing her, I scanned the guest list on the tablet.
I released a sigh when I didn’t hear the click of her retreating heels, signaling her exit. I glanced up to find her staring at me with pursed lips.
I arched a brow. “Yes?”
Making herself comfortable in the chair in front of my desk, she let out a loud sigh and exclaimed, “These heels are killing me!”
“Zuri, that wasn’t an invitation. I’m busy,” I grumbled.
“Shit. Do you always have to be such a disgruntled ass?”
