Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Send the recording to St. Monarch’s. Let them take it apart and tell us if it’s the real thing.”
Because of the respect I have for Misha, I agree, “Okay.”
“If it’s the real thing and Tiana cheated on you, I’ll help you kill the fucker.”
“And Tiana?” I ask, hating that I’m placing Misha in such a difficult situation, but I need to hear him say he’ll take my side.
“I can’t turn my back on my sister, Armani. I’ll support you any way I can, but I can’t cut Tiana out of my life.”
“Your support is all I want.”
“Have a drink, calm down, and let's figure out what’s going on.”
I pick up the glass the bartender refilled and down the whiskey in one go.
Talking to Misha has cooled my anger, and I start to go over all the facts with him. “There are the two gifts and notes. I sent the last package to St. Monarch’s, but it came back clean. I received the voice recorder at work.”
“The package had no fingerprints?”
“None,” I mutter.
“If Tiana were fucking a random guy, he wouldn’t think to wipe the package clean.”
True.
“You’re the logical one between us,” Misha says. “This looks like a setup to tear you and Tiana apart. Do you have any ex-girlfriends crazy enough to go to such lengths?”
I let out another chuckle. “No. I’ve been at St. Monarch’s with you for three years. You know who’s been in my bed.”
“Yeah,” he mutters. “What about enemies?”
“I have plenty of those after the job I did two months ago.”
“It’s a start.”
Unable to wrap my mind around this shit show, I say, “It’s such a stupid way to get revenge, though. That’s not how we work. We torture, maim, and kill. We don’t break up marriages.”
“There’s always a first time for everything. The fucker wants to hurt you, and honestly, this is worse than any torture I can think of. Nothing fucks you up like the woman you love betraying you.”
“You’re right,” I sigh. “It fucking hurts like a bitch.”
Doubt trickles into my heart.
What if this was all staged, and Tiana is innocent?
Jesus. Then I fucked up big time.
“Send the recording. I’ll pass it on to Director Koslov and get him to check it. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”
I nod even though Misha can’t see me.
“I’ll be at your place first thing in the morning. Don’t do anything until I get there. I’ll talk to Tiana.”
I nod again, feeling much calmer but fucking drained. “Thanks, brother.”
“Have another drink and try to get some rest. I’ll see you soon.”
We end the call, and I drop the phone on the counter while picking up my tumbler of whiskey.
The man to my left gets up from his stool and places cash on the counter. “His drink is on me.” He gives me a chin lift before he leaves.
He was probably fucked over by his wife.
As I sip on the amber fluid, I repeatedly go over everything that’s happened, looking for some clue that will lead me to figure out what’s going on.
What if Tiana is innocent?
She always answers when I call. She responds to text messages as soon as I send them. She spends a lot of time with Mamma and Zia Giada. The neighbors have seen nothing out of the ordinary. Tiana’s always at home, waiting for me. Not once has she faked a headache to get out of having sex with me.
And it always felt real with her.
The emotions. The desire. The submissiveness.
Ice pours into my veins.
The recording could easily be put together with today’s technology.
Rushing to my feet, I settle the bill for my drinks before running home. I burst through the front door and head straight for our bedroom to check for any listening devices.
I check the bed lamps, the bedside tables, our closet, and any fucking place I can think of. Finally, when I look inside the fire detector, I find a black device, so small it’s the size of my pinky nail, stuck to the inside.
Staring at the proof that this has all been a set-up, intense relief pours through my body.
Tiana didn’t cheat on me.
Cazzo.
My breaths speed up, and placing my hands on my knees, I gasp through the relief.
She hasn’t been with anyone but me. She’s still mine.
“Tiana!” I shout as I continue to search and find one in every room.
But I don’t find Tiana anywhere.
“Bella,” I call out, even though it’s just me in the house.
She probably went to my mother’s place. I’ll check on her once I’ve sent the recording to Misha.
I put the bugs in a bag, and opening my laptop, I press play and record the audio. I send the email to Misha and organize for a courier to pick up the device so it can be delivered to St. Monarch’s.
Closing the laptop, I take my phone out and dial Tiana’s number. The call doesn’t connect but instead goes to voicemail.