by L. P. Dover
Michael and Peter got out of their car and waited for us. Brows furrowed, I turned to Bryce. There was a look on his face I couldn’t decipher. All I knew was that I didn’t like it. “What’s wrong?”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them back up. “Before we go inside that house, there’s some things I need to tell you.”
My stomach dropped. I knew when bad news was coming, and I could see it all over his face. “Oh, dear God. Do I even want to know?”
His gaze switched over toward the house. “I have a feeling you’re about to find out anyway. Might as well hear it from me.” Holding out his left arm, he pushed up his T-shirt sleeve, revealing the sword and scales tattoo with the snake wrapped around the hilt. “You asked tonight what the date meant on the blade.” I nodded, and he rubbed a hand over it. “The date is the day I joined the Circle of Justice. That’s the name of the group I work for. My father was the one who started it and led it until he retired, handing it over to Peter Johnson.”
That didn’t sound so bad. “Are there other mafia families involved?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. Which is why I don’t know how your uncle is involved.”
Michael started for our car and opened my door. “You ready, Ladybug?”
Bryce huffed in annoyance, and I kissed him. “I’m sure we’re about to find out. I trust Michael, way more than I ever trusted my dad.” I kissed him again. “And I trust you. What you’ve told me so far doesn’t sound so bad.”
Michael stepped back, giving me space to get out of the car. Bryce slammed his door and joined me, making sure he stood between me and my uncle. It was clear he didn’t trust him, which made me wonder if I should.
Michael cleared his throat and flourished a hand toward the front door. “Shall we?”
Bryce kept close as we walked inside, and the second we did, I froze in my tracks. Everything around me seemed eerily familiar. The sound of classical music echoed from the left hallway, and straight ahead in the living room, there were paintings that I’d seen before, or at least something very similar. Even the scent in the air haunted me.
“Layla, what’s wrong?” Bryce asked.
“This house,” I whispered. “There’s something about it.” Michael and Peter walked in behind us and shut the door. I jerked around, feeling as if my chest had been ripped open. “What is this place?”
Michael’s gaze saddened. “You’ll understand soon. All I can say is that I’m sorry. There’s someone who wants to see you, and they’ll explain everything.” He held out his arm, and turned his focus to Bryce. “She needs to do this alone.”
Bryce growled. “Like hell she does. I’m not leaving her.”
Peter came up behind Bryce and slapped a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be fine. Michael and I need to talk to you anyway.”
Bryce and I stared at each other, but scared wasn’t the feeling in my gut. “I’ll be okay, Bryce. I promise.” I took Michael’s arm, and he led me down the long hallway. I looked back at Bryce once more before Michael opened the door to a bedroom, and I took a step inside. Just like the rest of the house, it gave me a haunted feeling. The walls were similar to the pale green and cream of my room at the estate, and the old Victorian furniture and bed reminded me of mine as well.
I turned to look at Michael, who stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame. “Who wants to see me, Michael? Is it my father?”
He scoffed. “No. He doesn’t even know I’m alive.”
There was animosity in his tone that I didn’t understand. “What the hell’s going on? The men who abducted you came after me. How did you get away from them, and who are they?”
Michael’s gaze focused on something over my shoulder, and that was when I heard a voice I’d missed every day for two years. “They were helping me.”
My heart stopped, and I clutched my chest. Michael stepped out of the room and slowly closed the door. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” Once the door was shut, my legs felt too heavy to move. A familiar scent wafted through the room, and the burn behind my eyes grew more intense.
“Oh, Layla, I’ve waited so long for this.” Her voice sounded the same, sweet and soft like an angel. People used to always say she looked like one, and that I took after her.
Closing my eyes, I pinched my arm. “This has to be a dream.”
“It’s not, my darling. There’s so much I have to tell you.” A soft, gentle hand set down on my shoulder, and I jumped. It wasn’t a dream. “It’s okay. I’m really here.”
I reached up and placed a hand over hers. There was a ring on her finger that I recognized just by the feel of it. I looked down at her hand, and it was the same princess-cut sapphire ring I’d bought her for her fiftieth birthday.
“Mom?” I cried.
She circled around me, and it was the first time I’d seen her in two years. Her blonde hair had grown past her shoulders, and we still shared the same greenish-brown eyes. However, there was a glow about her I’d never seen before. Knees growing weak, I tried to keep my footing, but everything swirled around me. It wasn’t long before the darkness took over, and I felt the hard thump of the floor beneath me as I toppled over.
*
A dream. It had to have been a dream. I’d seen my mother before in my dreams, but nothing as real as I’d just experienced. I wanted to get back to that dream world.
“Layla, wake up?”
The words sounded so distant, but I could feel myself pulling back to reality. I didn’t want to wake up. Shivers ran across my skin, and my teeth chattered as a damp, cold cloth pressed down on my forehead. I shot up and opened my eyes. My mother gasped, holding her hands on my shoulders to steady me. “Whoa. It’s okay, sweetheart.”
My head hurt, but that was the last thing on my mind. I stared at my mother, trying my best not to break down. She was just as beautiful as before. “You really are here. I was for sure it was a dream.”
She nodded. “It’s a lot to take in, but I am here.”
I flung my arms around her neck and hugged her tight. “The car accident. I don’t understand. How are you here? How is Michael here?” Tears poured down my cheeks, but they were happy tears.
My mother let me go and sighed as she took my hands, her expression serious. “This is going to be hard to hear, Layla.”
I snorted. “Trust me, I’m used to it. It can’t be worse than what I’ve heard from Dad.”
She nodded. “I know. That’s why you left town, right?”
Shocked, I stared at her, completely baffled. “How do you know that?”
She squeezed my hands. “I’m not going to sugarcoat this for you, Layla. You already know what your father’s done, and what he’s capable of. Years ago, I planted bugs in the estate, and in both suites at the Chateaux Hotel, and in your father’s cars. I’ve always known what he’s been up to.” She took a deep breath and let it out slow. “It’s also the way I found out he wanted to have me killed.”
My chest tightened until I could barely breathe. I let go of my mother’s hands and jumped out of bed. The whole world felt like it was crashing around me. All I could feel was anger and pain, coursing through my body. The life I thought I had was a lie. I didn’t even know what was real anymore.
“Why?” I cried, facing my mother again.
Still sitting on the bed, she stared at me with sad eyes. “When I found out it was him who bombed the restaurant, killing all those people, I was livid. I had no clue he was capable of something like that.” She stood and slowly walked toward me. “You were already on your own and about to graduate from college. I knew you’d be able to take care of yourself if I left your father. When I told him I was done, he refused to let me leave, but he couldn’t stop me. It was later that night when I found out he was planning to have me killed. His exact words were that if he couldn’t have me, no one else would.”
Bile rose up the back of my throat, and I clutched my stomach. “What did you do?”
Te
ars filled her eyes. “Michael helped me fake my death. It was the only way to escape your father. And as you can see, Michael did the same.”
So many emotions burst through me, and I didn’t know which one to latch on to. She faked her own death and left me in the cold to suffer the pain. “How could you do that to me? I mourned you every single day for the last two years. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Tears fell down her cheeks, and I could see the anguish on her face. It hurt my heart even more. “I wanted to,” she cried, “but there was no time. My plan was to reach out to you afterward, but your father put such a tight hold on you. It wasn’t until he put Michael as your bodyguard that things started to fall into place.”
“How did you know you could trust him? His brother was your husband.” She lowered her gaze to the floor, and it was obvious there was something she wasn’t telling me. It didn’t take long to figure it out—I just never put two and two together until now. “Were you two having an affair?”
Her head jerked up. “No. I was faithful to your father, and even grew to love him over time. With the Petrova line ending with me, my parents wanted me with a good match. I thought for sure they’d want me with Michael since we were closer in age. We’d been secretly seeing each other for a couple of months.” A small smile tilted the corner of her lips. “It was a good two months, Layla. I loved him, and he loved me. But unfortunately, our families had another plan in mind. They pushed for me to be with your father, and being young and naive, I accepted. Honestly, I didn’t think I had a choice.”
I couldn’t imagine having to marry someone you didn’t love, but I still couldn’t shake the anger I felt at deceiving me for so long. “Why didn’t Michael tell me?” I snapped. “He had plenty of chances.”
She nodded and wiped away her tears. “You’re right, he did, and it killed me to keep you in the dark. All I wanted was to have you back, but there were other plans in motion that had to be dealt with first.”
“Like what?”
“Like the Cartwrights,” she said, snarling in disgust. “Their plan was to abduct you just like they did Penelope all those years ago, and give you to Julian.”
“Penelope,” I gasped. “No one knows where she is.”
My mother shook her head and smiled. “She’s fine. In fact, she’s here at the house. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have known about Julian’s plan for you. That’s why I got rid of him at the gala.”
Mouth gaping, I froze in shock. Penelope was fine, and my mother was a killer. “You did it? What about Dad?”
She nodded. “I shot him too. I could’ve killed him, but I didn’t want to, not yet.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing; it was all so surreal. My head felt dizzy, so I leaned against the cherry wood dresser. “This is too much.”
My mother closed the distance and placed her hands on my cheeks. “I know, sweetheart. It’s been a crazy two years, but I’m hoping to get them back now that you know the truth. With Bryce’s help, I know we can. If it wasn’t for his stealthy hiding skills, I would’ve been able to find you earlier.”
“What does Bryce have to do with any of this? He said he didn’t know what was going on.” Or had he lied to me too? The thought made me sick to even think about it.
She tensed and slid her hands to my shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly. I might not have seen her for two years, but I knew her well enough to know she was hiding something from me. “He loves you, Layla, and I know you love him. I watched you the past two days at your house.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said through clenched teeth. “Did Bryce know any of this?”
“No,” she answered, and I could see the truth on her face. “Michael’s filling him in on everything as we speak. You’ll be able to see him soon, and I think it might be best for you two to stay here tonight. I’m sure there are a million questions you want to ask me.”
She kissed my cheek and hugged me. There were a ton of questions I wanted to ask, but I didn’t know where to start. The only thing I cared about at the moment was having her back. The aching hole in my chest had been filled from her loss, but I had a feeling another one was going to take its place.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Bryce
The second I walked into the library with Michael and Peter, I couldn’t believe my fucking eyes. Standing in one corner were the two men who’d chased after Layla and me the night we left town, and on the other side of the room, sitting on a small brown leather loveseat, was Penelope Cartwright.
“I know you have a lot of questions. Just hear us out,” Peter said from behind.
Jaw clenching, I turned to face him. “Better get started before I lose my shit.”
Out of all the scenarios that I’d played out in my head, nothing could’ve prepared me for the clusterfuck of information I’d just heard. Madeline had faked her own death to get away from Anthony, and Michael did the same so he could join her. They’d gotten a body from the morgue that resembled Michael’s build and replicated Michael’s tattoo on the cadaver. It was a well-thought-out plan. Madeline was the one who shot and killed both Cartwright men at the gala, and the one who injured Anthony.
The two men who’d supposedly abducted Michael were the same men who chased after me and Layla, only they weren’t trying to kill us. In fact, they were members of the Circle of Justice, trying to stop us from leaving so Madeline could get Layla back.
Penelope was alive, and the sole reason why Peter had inside information on the mafia families. It just so happened that they were childhood friends that kept in touch. Peter had been working with Madeline, Michael, and Penelope the whole fucking time, behind my back.
Arms crossed over my chest, I leaned against the wall and glared at Peter. “Why the hell am I even here, if you already had this shit planned out? You didn’t need me to take down Corsino.”
Peter glanced over at Michael, and then turned to me and sighed. “Actually, we did. With Michael gone, we needed someone to take his place as Layla’s bodyguard. Having the Collman name guaranteed you a place in Corsino’s inner circle. It all played out the way we wanted.”
“What if it didn’t?” I spat. “You blatantly risked my life and kept me in the dark.”
Peter huffed. “We couldn’t risk exposure. You are the one who signed up for this mission. You knew the risks. When you left town with Layla, it would’ve been the perfect opportunity, but you ran from my men and stayed hidden. I didn’t know how to find you. Your own family didn’t either.”
He was right, but it still didn’t make the situation easier to grasp. When I signed up to take down Corsino, I didn’t expect it to evolve into the clusterfuck it was now. The door opened, and a woman with long, blonde hair and a face like Layla’s walked in. She nodded at Michael and smiled before walking over to me, extending her hand.
“I’m Madeline,” she said, waiting for me to shake her hand. “You’re Bryce Chandler, right?”
With Layla not being with her, I could only assume she’d found out the truth about me. I shook her hand. “Yes. Did you tell Layla who I was?”
She shook her head, and that gave me some relief. “No,” she answered. “I know you love her. It’s your place to tell her, not mine. She might be angry at first, but I know she’ll forgive you. She loves you, that’s for certain.”
“Where is she?”
“Still in the bedroom. She knows what’s going on now. You can go in there in a minute, but first, I wanted to talk to you.” She walked over to stand by Michael’s side. “Now that you know everything, we need your help. I’m reluctant to get Layla involved, but I’ll need her too. I just don’t know how she’ll take it.”
“What do you need from me?”
She blew out a heavy sigh. “We need to get into the estate. There’s proof in Anthony’s desk that Roger and James built the bomb that killed those people at the restaurant. They need to go down for that. We just have to make sure it’s still there when the raid hap
pens.”
“What raid?” I asked.
Peter cleared his throat. “The FBI have been called in. Once we’re in place, we’re taking the Corsinos down.”
I focused back on Madeline. “What about Dominic? You don’t want him going to prison, do you?”
Her gaze saddened. “No. I’m hoping to get him on our side. I don’t know how far Anthony has dragged him into everything. All I need from you is to talk to Layla and get her cooperation. She knows what a monster her father is, but I think she’ll cooperate more if it comes from you.”
I shook my head. “Not when she finds out who I am, and that I’ve lied to her.”
“But you love her,” she said in all seriousness. “You might’ve hidden who you are, but the end is still the same. She loves you, and I know you’d die for her if you could.”
“I would,” I agreed.
“Her father needs to be taken out—either by you, me, or the FBI. Either way, I’m not letting him go free any longer.”
Heart racing, I stared at the door. “I’ll talk to her, and hopefully, live through it.”
Michael walked over and opened the door. “Third door on the left.”
Taking a deep breath, I started for the hallway. I should’ve just told her the truth when I had the chance. Pulse pounding out of control, I came up on the third door and knocked. Layla opened it, and gasped when she saw me, throwing herself into my arms.
“Thank God it’s you.”
I held her tight and breathed her in. There was a chance it could be the last time I’d get to hold her. I carried her inside and shut the door with my foot. “I’m here. Michael and your mother told me everything.”
I set her down, and she stared up at me. “They want your help, but my mother didn’t explain. What do they want from you?”
“From us,” I corrected her. “Your mother wants to take your father down, along with Roger and James. There’s proof in your father’s study that’ll incriminate them in the bombing. We need to secure that somehow. The only way to do that is to go to the estate.”
Her eyes widened. “And after that, does she want you to kill them?”