Dirty Empire

by Nina West

  “You don’t know that—”

  “Yes, I do. I’d never let that blow back on you. Never. I’d take the fall before I ever let that happen to you.” He glares sharply at me, as if I’ve gravely insulted him just by questioning him.

  I swallow. It’s the closest to an admission that he had a man killed for me as he’s ever given, and now he’s saying he’d go to prison for it? He committed that crime for me, for my father. Diego was nothing to him. A nobody.

  I don’t know how I feel about this, except… protected.

  I reach out to him and he takes a quick step back, out of reach. His expression is unreadable as he stares at me, and with each passing moment of silence, my body trembles harder.

  “Say something, please,” I finally manage, barely a whisper. I can’t breathe as I wait for his reaction to everything I’ve told him.

  “So, this agent cornered you at the spa today, and you’re only telling me about it now?” he asks slowly, evenly. “Earlier, you pretended to be sick—”

  “I wasn’t pretending! I was sick! I felt like vomiting.” My regret flares. I knew I should have told Gabriel right then and there.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because it’s the FBI! I freaked out.”

  “Or because you were considering her offer.”

  I open my mouth to deny that.

  “Don’t lie to me,” he warns sharply. “We made a deal with each other, remember, Mercy? No lying.”

  The denial dies on my lips, unspoken as guilt hammers my chest.

  He nods, more to himself. “So, this agent offered you a deal to get your father out in exchange for information to put me away.”

  I flinch. “Yes. But I didn’t tell her anything—”

  He raises his hand in the air between us, silencing me. His brow furrows in thought. Is he replaying our conversation from earlier? Is he remembering all that he’s told me about Vince and Merrick, about the prison fight club, about his uncle trying to kill us? Is it enough to make him worry?

  Is it enough to decide I’m a liability that needs eliminating?

  He told me he loves me, though, I remind myself with a calming breath. He looked as surprised as I was when that admission escaped his lips.

  But he told me that before I admitted to my secret rendezvous with Lewis.

  Are men like Gabriel even capable of real love?

  More importantly, are they capable of killing the women they love for self-preservation?

  I swallow my nerves. I need to explain myself. “When she approached me at the spa, I didn’t know what to do. I needed to think about it. About my father, rotting away in that cell for the rest of his life, and how likely it is that Justin can get him out. And then she scared me, telling me that you’ve killed witnesses before, that you’d kill me if you thought I was working with them. You wouldn’t even think twice about it.”

  “And you believed her? You thought I could hurt you like that?” I don’t miss the flinch that flashes across his face, as if my words stung him.

  Despite my fear, warmth blossoms in my chest for this man. “After what you said about your uncle working with the FBI and your father putting a hit out on him… yeah, I guess I did.”

  He shakes his head, as if he’s listening to my words but can’t fathom what I’m saying. “It’s not the same.”

  “How is it not the same?”

  “Because I dragged you into my shit.” He shakes his head again. “I wouldn’t blame you for hating my guts for all that I’ve put you through. You didn’t ask for any of this.” He adds softly, more to himself, “But I guess you’re all in now.”

  “I am.” For better or worse, it seems. This time when I reach for his arm, he doesn’t step away, allowing me a chance to stroke his muscular forearm, tracing the map of veins. “I tore up the card she gave me, Gabriel. I flushed it down the toilet. I don’t want any part of this, of anything bad happening to you. They’re investigating you. You and Caleb. They’re watching you right now. Here, in the hotel—”

  “I know.” He pushes his hands through his thick mane of hair as he begins to pace, sending it into disarray.

  My jaw drops, though I shouldn’t be surprised. Gabriel’s proven time and time again that nothing is out of reach for him. “How are you so calm about this? I’ve been losing my goddamn mind!”

  He smirks. “Stay a while. You’ll get used to it.”

  “Or you could stop doing things that attract their attention,” I mutter. “When did you find out?”

  “About the tail? They’ve been on us since we turned onto the interstate. Apparently they’ve got a CI on us. We don’t know who it is yet.” His jaw ticks. “I was afraid it was you.”

  “It’s Moe.”

  He stops to give me a doubtful look. “What?”

  I drop my voice in the off chance that the bodyguard has his ear pressed against the door. “I think it’s Moe.”

  “Nah.” Grim amusement flashes across his face. “He’s one of Farley’s guys.”

  “No, I’m telling you. I think he’s working with the FBI. Or he is the FBI. Lewis said she had someone in place who could protect me, and you heard Farley. He said Moe asked to be on my detail. Plus, she knew exactly where I’d be, both times. She risked talking to me in the restroom with Moe lurking around. Why would she do that, unless she wasn’t worried about being caught by him?”

  Gabriel opens his mouth, but then stops and frowns at the closed door. “He’s only been with Farley a few months. Fuck, you might be right,” he mutters, checking his watch. “I need you to stay here. I’m going to send Michelle in here, too. Don’t tell her anything. You’ve seen how bloodthirsty these agents can get to make their case. They’ll stop at nothing.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  He turns to leave.

  “Are you angry with me?” I hold my breath, waiting for his answer.

  His jaw tenses. “Honestly? I don’t know what I am, Mercy. Disappointed. Angry. Hurt. You can’t hide shit like this from me. Ever. We can’t work like that.” I’ve never heard him so somber before.

  “I know. I won’t ever, again.”

  “That agent, though. I want to—”

  “Please don’t do anything to her. I don’t want you committing any more crimes on my behalf.”

  He sighs heavily. “Listen to me very carefully. That agent doesn’t have shit on you, because you haven’t done a single thing wrong. Not one thing, you got it?”

  I feel my head bobbing in agreement.

  “She’s desperate, and she’s trying to scare you into complying.”

  “But she knows all about me. Where I work, that I went to school—”

  “I could have paid for that intel and had it in an hour. She’s got nothing, and she’s grasping at straws. It was a stupid move on her part though. She didn’t realize how smart you’d be. Or that you’d actually give a shit about me.” A strange look passes over his face. “Stay in here, no matter what you hear. You understand?”

  A prickle of unease slides down my spine. “Gabriel, what’s going on?” He’s far more tense than he was when I left him after dinner. Now that I think about it, he seemed on the way out and in a hurry when I stormed in here, tears in my eyes, demanding he profess his love to me. I’m getting the distinct impression something bad is about to happen. “Lewis said something about a turf war and the cartel—”

  He shakes his head. “Just stay in here. And if anyone but me or Caleb steps through that door and they’re not waving a badge—” He fishes out a handgun from the duffel bag on the dresser. Popping the clip out, he checks it before reloading. He spins the gun around in his hand deftly, holding it out for me. “—you point and shoot, got it?”

  I accept it, the metal cool within my palm. I set it on the bedside table. “What are you going to do about Moe?”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll get the truth out of him.” I see the wicked gleam in Gabriel’s eye that tells me I don’t want to know any mor
e details. “For now, though, I’m going to send him in here.”

  “What?” I glare at him. “I don’t want that guy in here with me!”

  “I can’t have him anywhere near what’s about to go down. Besides, I want you protected, and no matter what he is, he’ll do that.”

  “I’m going to screw this up.”

  “Hey. No, you’re not.” He cups my jaw between gentle hands. “Tell me now, you’re either all in or all out, babe.”

  “I’m in.” I weave my fingers between his. “I’m all in, Gabriel.”

  “Okay. Then just keep pretending you’re my pretty, clueless girlfriend until I come back.” He hesitates, but then leans in to kiss me.

  I return it eagerly, weaving my fingers through his silky hair to pull him closer to me.

  “I’ve got to go,” he whispers, breaking free after only a second.

  An ache fills my chest. That kiss didn’t feel the same. It was missing something I can’t put my finger on. “Be careful,” I warn him.

  He heads for the door, pointing at the gun. “Keep that nearby, but don’t shoot him. A body our hotel room will complicate things,” he throws over his shoulder.

  I study the gun on the table.

  Is this what a life with Gabriel is really like?

  14

  Gabriel

  Whatever disease is eating away at Camillo Perri is doing a bang-up job, because he’s nothing but a shriveled old white-haired man with a hunch in his shoulder, looking weeks from getting familiar with a six-foot-deep hole in the ground

  Miles Perri, on the other hand? He’s still the same motherfucker I remember from years past, only with more gray hair and pounds on his gut.

  How satisfying would it be to put three bullets into that stomach? Stand over him while he writhes in agony, slowly bleeding out? It’s been nineteen years, and I can’t remember the sound of my mother’s laugh anymore, except to remember that it was beautiful and soft.

  I have to tell myself to relax my fists as I stroll down the stairs toward the main room, where Camillo and his four sons wait. Leo—who is only slightly younger than Miles—Merrick, and Vince stand together, off to one side and away from their older psycho siblings. Maybe that’s their standard practice, or maybe that’s to keep up this illusion that they’re not all scheming to kill us.

  Maybe that whole story about Miles going after Merrick’s boyfriend was bullshit. How else is he standing in the same room with the guy now?

  Fuck. I was happier when I was sure my uncle was the one trying to kill us. I actually like the two youngest Perris.

  At least they didn’t insist on bringing security with them.

  From the corner of my eye, I note Moe hovering near the entrance to the games room with Farley.

  Yeah, nice try. If Mercy’s right and he is a CI, he’d love to be a fly on those walls.

  I close the distance to them. “Where’s Michelle?” I ask quietly.

  “In her bedroom,” Moe says, his eyes locked on Camillo and Miles.

  “Okay. Get her into my room with Mercy, and stay with them. If anything happens to her, I will hold you personally responsible.” And no federal agency will be able to save you.

  He meets my threatening gaze and then, with a curt nod, takes off upstairs.

  “Hey.” I jerk my chin toward Farley.

  The behemoth leans in and gives me his ear.

  “How solid is Moe?”

  Farley turns to glower at me, like I knew he would. I’ve never questioned the guys he brings in for protection. I’ve never had to. “Fucking solid. Why?”

  I match his lethal look with my own. “Because I have intel that says he might not be.”

  I can hear Farley’s molars grinding as he shifts his focus up the stairs to the second floor, where his golden boy just disappeared.

  “We’ll deal with him later. I don’t want him anywhere near us tonight.” With that, I head for the patriarch, extending my hand in greeting. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  Camillo dissects me with cloudy eyes, leaving me standing there like an idiot with my hand out for an awkward moment, but finally he accepts it. His skin feels like parchment paper. “It’s been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of visiting Las Vegas.” His voice is deceptively deep for such a frail-looking old man.

  “Really?” Caleb’s lazy gaze drifts to the terrace. The girls have all been sent away, to get liquored up before their return. “I can’t seem to stay away for too long.”

  “Let’s get this over with. I’ve got better things to do with my time,” Miles mutters.

  Caleb flashes a toothy smile that instantly puts me on edge. I’ve seen that smile before. It usually means he’s about to lunge for a guy’s throat. But instead he takes a step back and gestures toward the games room. “Please. Get comfortable.”

  Miles doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t defer to his father, he simply marches in. Huh. Look at him, taking the lead already, with his father still breathing. I wonder what he thinks of this “alliance.”

  Vince nods at me before taking up the rear, heading into the room.

  “Where the fuck have you been?” Caleb snarls under his breath. Apparently double D tits in his face and a pre-meeting screw were not enough to ease his tension.

  “Getting news from Fulcort.”

  His eyebrows arch in question. “And?”

  “Told you this was going to be a waste of our time,” Miles complains, rocking back and forth in the leather chair he’s chosen at the poker table.

  Arrogant prick.

  “You trust me, right?” I murmur.

  “Always, bro,” Caleb answers without hesitation.

  “Okay, then. Follow my lead, but don’t take it too far.” With a deep breath, I stroll in behind Caleb and pull the pocket doors shut.

  And then I draw my Glock and press the barrel against Miles’s right temple.

  15

  Mercy

  “Do you think you can chill?” I ask, trying to focus on the mindless movie playing on the flatscreen and not on the potential FBI informant standing by the door, gun in hand, or the regret clawing at my insides. I should have told Gabriel sooner. Now that I’m on the other side of things, it’s clear I shouldn’t have been afraid to tell him. He’s not a monster. Not to me, at least.

  Michelle huffs—for the tenth time in half as many minutes—before continuing to pace the full length of the massive floor-to-ceiling window next to the bed. She was in the other bedroom when Moe tracked her down. He told her I needed to speak with her “right away.” He didn’t tell her that once she came in here, she wouldn’t be allowed out.

  I haven’t asked if she was packing up her clothes to leave, but by the sullen expression on her face, that’s where her thoughts are likely at. I can’t blame her for being upset—finding Gabriel like that would have been crushing, even in the early days—and yet the shitstorm that’s swirling in this room is already cloying without adding her tension.

  She stops suddenly and turns to stare at me.

  “What?”

  “You look better.” Michelle watches me intently. “Do you feel better?”

  “Yeah. I think so.” Divulging my secret to Gabriel has certainly lifted a weight off my shoulders.

  “Okay, then, let’s go out.” She reaches for her clutch purse and phone that sits on the nightstand.

  “We can’t.”

  “We’re in Vegas and dressed to go out. Why not?”

  I suck back a gulp of water while I search for a suitable answer that doesn’t divulge anything. “Gabriel wants me to stay here.”

  “And since when have you ever listened to him? Especially when you know he’s down there with a bunch of dick swappers rubbing themselves all over him.”

  “He’s not doing that. They’re not even here anymore. He sent them away.” He’s busy facing off with the men who murdered his mother. My stomach tenses. I’m not sure which is worse. “And he didn’t have anything to do with those women showing up h
ere. That’s all Caleb.”

  “Right. And when they go to the strippers, Gabriel only has eyes for the sports on the TV screens.” She shakes her head at me, and I know what she’s thinking: that I’m an idiot for believing Gabriel, a womanizer, wouldn’t be partaking in his brother’s arranged “entertainment” if I wasn’t here to catch him.

  Up until even a week ago, I might have doubted that as well. But things between us are shifting quickly. Time and time again, with his actions, with his words, with the fleeting gentle caresses at every turn, with every smile that touches his lips the moment we make eye contact, he’s shown I’m in his thoughts as much as he is in mine—which is constantly, as of late.

  Tonight, he admitted to loving me. I had to ask—to prod—but he didn’t flinch. He didn’t deny it.

  Has Gabriel Easton ever told a woman that he loved her? I’d bet money the answer to that is a resounding never. But he’s changing. The appalling man I met that day in the visitor lounge at Fulcort is not the same man whose lips find mine late into the night and as the sun rises for a new day.

  Or maybe it’s me who is changing. Maybe I’m warming up to this new dark world that has embraced me as one of its own and is saving my father.

  Either way, Michelle’s bitter opinion sparks an urge to bite back. “Look, don’t get bitchy with me because Caleb showed you exactly who you already knew he was.” Despite my scolding words, my anger flares. Why couldn’t he just not be a fucking douchebag for two nights?

  Her jaw tightens. “I can’t sit here all night while he’s screwing around with other women, Mercy.”

  “We won’t. And they’re not doing that anyway. They’re too busy with—” I steal a glance toward Moe. “—some people. A meeting.” How much does he know?

  She wraps her arms around her chest as if cold. “Is it about buying this place?”

  “I don’t know. I think so.” I avert my gaze as I lie.

  “Those two hot men from that night at Empire are here. I saw them come in.” She begins pacing again. “Maybe I should hook up with one of them and let Caleb walk in on that. See how he likes it.”