"You’re Cora," I stated, not bothering to ask if it was true, because I felt her identity in my gut.
"And you’re Juliet Cross," she replied, a sly smile on her lips. "Nick thought you were my rat. I’m almost disappointed that I didn’t learn of you sooner. You would have made a great rat. You still could, you know."
"What do you want?" I asked, because I knew this wasn’t just a pleasant visit. She wanted something from me.
"I like your style. Straight to the point," she replied back. "I think it’s obvious that you’re in way over your head, Juliet. And I know you think you’re doing right by your Grams, but Nicholas Civella doesn’t care about you. He is incapable of understanding your struggle like I can. I know he has you in his fist, but I can protect you. I can save you."
Oddly, I found myself feeling drawn in by her offer. Cora didn’t seem malicious to me. I didn’t get that same bad feeling in my gut like I did with Hale. She spoke with such conviction that I genuinely believed that she could help me.
But Anthony’s story kept me from believing her. "You hurt Anthony," I replied.
"My business associate hurt Anthony. And he paid the price for that with his life. Nicholas shot my brother five times. No one is innocent in this game."
Game. She called it a game.
In the distance, a bus was pulling up. I breathed a sigh of relief. "I think we could work together, Juliet," Cora persisted. "I have such a glorious vision for this city—for our futures. Don’t allow yourself to die in the Civella web. Your Grams doesn’t deserve to lose both her daughter and her granddaughter."
Tears started to fill my eyes. What she said sounded so right, but also felt so wrong in my heart. "B-but," I stuttered, not sure what to say.
"Just think about it, okay?" she said with a wink just as the bus pulled up. We briefly stared each other down. Her eyes were soft and compassionate. She didn’t look like the crazy murderer villain that Nicholas made her out to be. "Okay," I whispered before turning around and sprinting onto the bus.
I sat in the far back row and looked out the window, but Cora was gone.
14
The Civella Mansion looked less impressive to me today. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep clouding my brain, or maybe it was the knowledge of all the secrets hiding within its fortress, but I wasn’t as terrified now.
The early morning sunshine kissed my cheeks. It smelled like freshly cut grass outside. Walking up to the gate with a sense of confidence that felt forced, I rang the bell and waited patiently for a guard to let me in.
I ended my night with fear, but started my day with a decision. I was going to tell Malice everything that happened last night. It wasn’t because I trusted Malice more. He was a twisted fuck. No, it was because I feared Cora less. If word got out that I was working with Cora, Malice would burn my life to the ground.
"What are you doing here?" Hale asked from the other side of the gate. I hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He looked barely put together, as if he had spent all night pacing the floors. He had a stain on his shirt, and his pants were wrinkled. I looked down at his scuffed shoes. In the light of day, this man looked painfully human. Normal. Unimpressive and forgettable.
"I need to speak with Malice," I replied.
He looked me up and down, scrutinizing my oversized shirt, my faded jeans, and bare face. My hair was still wet from my shower, and my stomach was rumbling from lack of food. I was tired. Spent. Overwhelmed. But most of all, I was resigned to my fate.
"Boss is in a meeting."
"I can wait."
"He doesn’t really take appointments. If he wants to see you, he will." Hale started walking away, so I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket and called the devil himself.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
"Hello?"
"Cora paid me a visit," I said in a bored tone. "I’m standing outside your house, and Hale won’t let me in."
I waited a couple of beats. Then, Malice’s raspy voice cursed. "Fuck."
The gates opened almost immediately. "See you soon," I sang before hanging up my phone and strutting past Hale like a proud flamingo. Of course, the bastard couldn’t let me have my moment, because he was determined to follow me inside. I felt his eyes on my back as I ascended the winding path leading up to the house.
Malice was already standing in the foyer when I opened the front door. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and put on the first pair of pants and wrinkled button-down he could find. His blond hair was a ruffled mess, and it shouldn’t have looked as sexy as it did. I suppose it was early. But I couldn’t waste another minute.
"Tell me everything," he demanded.
And so I did.
"She knew where you were. She knew what bus station you’d be at and when."
I had my own personal theory on the matter, but the main culprit was hovering over me at the moment. Hale had to know I wouldn’t have a ride back to my house after my shift.
"You need a car," William grumbled while stroking his chin. "I’ll get it sorted today."
"It should have been sorted yesterday," Malice snapped.
William’s face was twisted with anger. "You’re just as capable of coordinating these things. It was your idea to set her up at the club. What is it you always say? Protect your investments. Or what was it you called her, a toy? What difference does it make to you?"
Anthony piped in. The entire Civella family and Hale were sitting around a conference table. "He only cares about things after Cora gets her hands on them. Congratulations, Juliet. Your net worth just doubled."
Malice pulled a knife from his pocket and started scratching at the table top. I watched the entire exchange with my brows raised. "I’m not disillusioned about my worth, okay?" I said. "I know it doesn’t really matter to anyone here if something happens to me. I’m sharing that Cora was in my space, because I’m being paid to provide information."
Malice locked eyes with me, an unfamiliar emotion flickering in his gaze. "Get her a fucking car. I want escorts for all my employees to their cars after their shifts."
Hale answered Malice. "I’ll coordinate it."
"I can do it," William snapped. "I can fucking do something, you know."
William was still wearing his suit from the night before and had some scruff on his jaw. He looked like he needed a nap. Or a beer. Anthony was doodling on a notepad next to me. I got the impression that he didn’t usually sit in on family meetings, but no one stopped him when he waltzed in and plopped down beside me.
"Fine," Malice replied. "You want to feel like you’re actually useful for once, have at it. We need security increased tenfold at the club. Speaking of, where were you during all of this, Hale?"
We all turned to look at the beefy, greasy, nasty fucker. My appointed bodyguard had his response practiced. "We had an unruly guest I was taking care of. It’s on the end-of-day report Kelsey sent."
Of course he did. Hale was the rat, and I was going to fucking prove it. "This just further proves that it’s someone at the club," Malice said while circling the table.