Corey

I may have been riding the wave of luck on my way over, but a growing sense of dread tells me my run is over.

The money’s gone, boyfriend saved. I used up my mojo for the moment.

Time to lie low and recharge.

Nothing feels sweet or special anymore. My win in Memphis, Stefano’s sweetness, all feel tainted by this exchange.

I drive back, hollowness stretching inside me, threatening to take over, drag me under. I want to go up to Stefano’s suite and crawl into bed, pull the covers up over my head and block out life for a few hours. Instead, I stop in Stefano’s office to let him know I’m back, or maybe it’s because guilt about lying to him is gnawing at me.

Leo’s in his office, but Stefano waves me in with a smile. Again, I have that sense of my luck going flat. The buoyancy that swept me through the tournament is dead still. Next time, I’ll heed the prickle of warning, the knowing that everything is off. That something’s about to go horribly wrong.

As it is, I push away the queasiness, sit down in the chair Stefano waves me into.

“Leo’s just showing me a new piece of equipment we got in for security.”

“Oh yeah? What is it?”

Leo produces a small wand-type instrument and flips a switch. Green lights illuminate the tip. “It scans for microdevices with signals in them.” He stands up and runs it over his own body. It beeps when it goes over his jacket pocket. “You see? That’s my cell phone.” He produces the phone and sets it on the desk.

He continues waving the wand around, bringing it over my purse, where it turns red and beeps again. “That’s your phone.”

I unzip my bag and produce the phone, setting it on the desk beside his. He continues scanning my purse and the device beeps again.

“That’s weird,” I say, digging in my purse again. “What else sets it off?”

Leo and Stefano go dead still. “Bugs.” Leo’s affable manner’s fallen away, his expression icy. “May I?” The words are polite, but the way he says them makes me shiver.

I shove my bag in his direction. Of course I know there’s nothing in it. I glance at Stefano, but he’s not looking at me, he’s intent on the bag.

Leo waves the wand inside the bag, setting it off again, and he turns the bag inside out. Attached to the lining is a tiny button that makes the device go wild.

Cold flushes through me. “What is that? I’ve never seen that before.” My voice is higher in pitch. I sound like a liar, even to my own ears, but it’s the damn truth.

Leo produces a gun and cocks it at my head, the sound loud in the silent office.

I fully expect Stefano to tell him to put it away but he doesn’t say a word. His face is pale, expression flat.

Panic surges and I scramble up to my feet. The muzzle of the gun follows me. “I-I didn’t know that was in there.”

Still keeping the gun trained at my head, Leo advances, waving the wand over me. It doesn’t beep again. Stefano picks the bug up and crushes it between his fingers, then he smashes my phone on the side of the desk until it pops open. He examines the inside of it and sets it down.

Tears spear my eyes. “My dad,” I choke. “My dad must’ve put it in there. But I never told him anything. I swear.”

“Are you working with your dad?” Stefano’s voice is eerily calm and detached.

I shake my head quickly. “No.” Tears roll down my face. “But he’s here in Las Vegas. He’s investigating the disappearance of Donahue. I told him I didn’t know anything, but maybe that’s when he—” I swipe at my tears with the back of my hand. “When he put it in there.”

Jesus, my story sounds stupid and implausible even though it’s the stone cold truth.

“When was this?” Stefano clips.

“Right after it happened.” My voice cracks. “He was at my apartment when I came home.”

“And you kept that from me.” Stefano says it like I’ve just forever damned myself.

“He was in Chicago, too.” I admit, as if telling him now will make up for my earlier omissions. “At the wedding. He said he has evidence. I gave him the money from Memphis to suppress it.”

Stefano surges to his feet, knocking his chair to the floor. I don’t move, even though I’m shaking like a baby bird. He fists my hair and brings his face close to mine.. A muscle tics in his cheek, but his eyes are dead. “You tell your father,” he snarls, “he shouldn’t get his family involved in business.”

It’s a bald threat and I’m full-on terrified. It’s a wonder I don’t piss myself.

“You broke my fucking heart, Corey Simonson.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, because his expression is breaking mine, but he releases me abruptly and shoves me away. “Get out. Don’t ever come back here. Don’t ever let me see your face again, bella. I won’t show mercy a second time.”

“Stefano,” I whisper-plead. I want to explain—or better yet, go back in time and be more transparent from the beginning. Maybe I could avoid this betrayal of his faith in me.

But it’s too late. Leo grabs my elbow and yanks me through the door, slamming it behind me.

I can barely see as I toddle out, tears blinding me. My purse is still in their office, so I have nothing: no keys, no money, no phone, nowhere to go.

I find my way outside and start walking, away from the Bellissimo, away from Stefano. Away from everything I loved.

Stefano

The minute she’s gone, I throw the desk over. I want to smash everything in sight. She never loved me. She played me. Ruined me.

Leo watches, silent at first. “Want me to take care of her?”

“No.”

Even as angry as I am, as broken and betrayed and fucking insane as I am, I could never harm Corey.

“I’m not sure you really have the perspective necessary to make this call.”

I throw myself at Leo, cut off his air as I shove him up against the wall. “You don’t ever question my judgment. Not on this. Not on anything. Capiche?”

“Yeah. Got it, boss,” Leo says quickly.

I storm out, because if I stay, I’m going to kill the guy. I go up to our suite—my suite—fuck!—and I immediately know it was a mistake.

The place smells like her. Reminds me of her. Slays me.

I go on a rampage, throwing furniture, putting my fist through the wall.

All this fucking time I thought she was holding back because she was protecting her heart. But she wasn’t. She was playing me.

I heard the warning bells about her fucking dad. I knew getting involved with her would bite me. I just chose to ignore it. I was too captivated by the enigma that is Corey Simonson. I wanted to be the guy who set her free. Wanted to know what it’s like to get inside her shell. To be her man.

I am a fucking idiot.

I pace around the wrecked room, trying to remember every single thing I ever said in her presence. She saw me shoot Donahue. That’s a problem, for sure. But what else—

I stop.

She saw me shoot Donahue and didn’t go to the cops. If she had, why would they need a bug? Unless they want to take down Nico, too. Or just get as much info as possible.

I rub my bruised knuckles.

What if she told me the truth? Her dad planted it on her after the shooting. She didn’t tell him anything. He’s digging, using his in, but he has nothing.

Because Corey wouldn’t betray me.

Hot emotion chokes me. My eyes burn.

Fuck! I slam my fist into the wall again.

I don’t know what to believe.

Was Leo right? Is my judgment too off on this one to know what’s happening?

Or did I just make the biggest mistake of my life?

Corey

I don’t know how long I walk—until my feet are blistered and my calves are in spasm. I somehow end up back the Bellissimo—precisely where I’m not supposed to be. I take the elevator to the top deck of the parking lot and look over the edge.

No, I’m not thinking about jumping. I’m not stupid or suicidal. And while the pain in my chest is startling, I have a lot more to worry about right now than a broken heart. I need to worry about my immediate survival.

I am so fucked right now.

I think it’s quite possible someone will come after me, despite the fact that Stefano let me go. Which means going to my place would be a mistake.

I could contact Sondra. I know she’d do anything in the world for me, but if Nico or any of his soldiers want to find me, she’s going to be the first person they look to for answers. I don’t want to put her in that position.

I do have the stash of money under my couch cushion. I need to get there and get it out without anyone seeing me.

I head back out to the strip and hail a cab. It’s not a great plan, but it’s a start. Once I have a place to stay I can contemplate what I’ve lost.

Stefano.

The only man who ever saw the real me.