I haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours. Running on pure adrenaline, I glare at the woman sitting in front of me. Ariana Benjamin, twenty-seven years old. Worked here for two years. She’s a single orphan with no siblings and no kids. No one to miss her if she doesn’t come home tonight.

She glances at the door behind me, fear and worry etched all over her features. Yeah, she should be fucking worried, but not because of me. This hotel, the one I stay at every time I come to Chicago on business, happens to be owned by the Moretti family. They also happen to be Sicilian Mafia, my clients, and my friends. And this woman right here has fucked herself well and truly over by slipping a roofie into my drink while she was working at their bar.

The shock on her face when I walked back in tonight and escorted her to this office alongside hotel security was a sight to see. Clearly she thought I wouldn’t suspect a thing. I wonder how many other poor fuckers she’s done this to.

Her entire body trembles. “W-what do you want?”

“Right now, I am the only thing standing between you and your employers, Ariana. You do know who they are, right? What they do to people who fuck them over?”

Her slender throat convulses, and her wide, imploring eyes remain locked on the door.

I pull up a chair and sit. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

She gives a single nod of her head.

“Tell me what the fuck happened last night.”

“I, uh—you got drunk, and we—”

I slam my fist onto the wooden table in front of me and snarl. “I will give you one more fucking chance to tell me the truth before I hand you over to the Morettis’ men to do whatever the fuck they want. Now start from the very beginning. How do you know Bryce Edison?”

His name makes her blink rapidly. Her lips trembles, and her eyes fill with tears. “I met him here at the casino. I was paid to hit on a guy he was with. Afterward, Bryce figured out what I did and threatened to tell my employers what I was doing in their hotel. So he started blackmailing me.”

“Blackmailing you how?”

Her cheeks flush pink. “At first, he wanted sex. But it was only when he came into town and that wasn’t very often. But then he …” A tear runs down her cheek, and she swats it away and sniffs. “There was this guy he needed leverage on, so he asked me to drug him and then go up to his room and make it look like we’d slept together. I said no,” she insists, swatting away more tears. “But he said he’d tell the Morettis that I’d been working as a honey trap in their casino, and I …” Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “I had no choice. I know exactly who my employers are, Mr. James.”

Keeping my glare trained on her, I refuse to show an ounce of compassion. But I bite my tongue and let her continue, resisting the urge to cross-examine her.

“I guess I should have left, but this is the best job I’ve ever had. It pays well and I have great healthcare. Besides, after I did it the first time, Bryce knew he was onto a good thing, and he threatened to tell them what I’d done if I left. I felt trapped.”

I grind my teeth so hard my jaw aches.

“Then he asked me to do it again the night before last. With you.” She sniffs, her dark eyes wide as she silently pleads with me.

When she doesn’t offer any further information, I speak. “I’m still waiting for the part where you tell me what the fuck happened last night.”

“Nothing. I slipped the drugs he gave me into your drink and then I helped you up to your room. You were out of it by the time we got there, and I had to call Bryce to help me lift you into the bed.”

White-hot anger surges through my veins. “Bryce was here too?”

She nods. “He wanted to make sure I’d go through with it.”

I snarl. “And then what happened? What the fuck did you two do to me while I was unconscious?”

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “I told Bryce to get out before anyone saw him up here. Then I took off our clothes and got into bed with you. I snapped a couple of pictures of me curled up next to you and waited for morning.”

Jesus fucking Christ. Pair of goddamn snakes. “So we did nothing?”

“No! I know I’m a horrible person for what I did, Mr. James, but I’m not a …” A sob catches in her throat. “I never would have done anything like that.”

I roll my neck, trying to ease the tension solidifying my muscles. “And your other accomplice? The woman who hit on me at the bar?”

“Just some chick. I gave her a few free drinks and asked her to hit on you. She was more than happy to do it.”

My temples throb. “Did you ever speak to Bryce’s sister, Melanie?”

She blinks rapidly, her face a mask of confusion. “No. I didn’t even know he had a sister. Why?”

I ignore her question. “So he never even mentioned her?”

She shakes her head, and a small wave of relief washes over me. But I quickly remind myself that it means nothing. Mel didn’t have to speak to Ariana to have been involved.

I run a hand through my hair, and a heavy sigh pours out of me.

“What’s going to happen to me now?” she asks, her voice small and quiet.

I fix my gaze on her face again. I’ve spent years in courtrooms and offices just like this one reading body language and facial expressions as well as inflections in speech, not to mention every other little tick that betrays a person when they’re lying. And Ariana is telling the truth, I’m sure of it. The fact that she’s another victim of Bryce Edison makes me feel a little sorry for her, but I refuse to let her know that.

“One of your employers is waiting outside to talk to you. If you’re lucky, it will be Dante or Joey rather than Lorenzo or Max.” Not that Joey and Dante aren’t every bit as ruthless, but they are a little easier to reason with.

Her face pales, and she sucks in a stuttered breath. “Please, Mr. James,” she begs. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. Or anyone.” Tears run freely down her cheeks.

I stand, brushing the creases from my suit. I need a shower and a long fucking sleep. “Yeah, but you did, Ariana.”

I walk out of the room and straight into Lorenzo Moretti. He eyes me with concern, and I scratch my fingertips over the thick stubble on my jaw.

“Did you get what you need, compagno?”

“Yeah.” I give him a brief account of my conversation with Ariana. “I know she fucked up, but it seems she was taken advantage of. I told her someone is waiting to talk to her. So she’s fucking terrified right now.”

He grunts. “She should be.”

I glance back at the closed door. Her fate shouldn’t matter to me, but it does. “What are you gonna do with her?”

He runs a hand over his thick beard and sucks on his bottom lip before answering. “She’ll never work in this city again. Is that enough for you?”

Well, damn. Family life sure has mellowed my old friend. “Yeah, it is.”

“And what about this Edison prick?”

I let out a long breath. A big part of me would enjoy seeing the look on Bryce’s face when Lorenzo Moretti pays him a visit, but that’s not how I handle my business. And this is way too personal to allow anyone else to handle it for me. “I’ll deal with him.”

Chapter

Forty-Two