He’s quiet while I purge the whole story. “So they set you up? Mel too?” he asks incredulously. “Fuck, Nathan.”
I drop my head into my hands, not wanting to believe it myself, but she confirmed it with her own goddamn mouth.
“Nathan!” Elijah’s voice rings in my ears. I assume he’s been talking, but I didn’t hear a word of it.
“I’m here.”
“What do you want to do? We can have her and her brother arrested within the hour. The bartender too.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I need to know exactly what happened last night.”
He lets out an exasperated sigh. “And how are you going to find that out?”
“I’m going back to Chicago to speak to the bartender, and I’m pretty sure the Morettis will be interested to know the sort of woman they’re employing in their bar.”
“Don’t do anything stupid, Nathan.”
I ball my free hand into a fist. Right now I could happily murder someone, but I force myself to close my eyes and think of my mom’s painting hanging in my office, remembering the feeling of the sun of my face. My pulse begins to slow, and I take a deep breath. “I won’t do anything stupid,” I assure him.
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?”
