Twisted Lies 2 (14 page)

My heart leaped out of my chest when my
mother screamed, “Leave my son alone, you fucking asshole. This is
between you and me, you damn coward.”

The man pulled a .357 Magnum from his belt.
“Shut the fuck up, whore. You brought this on yourself. I warned
you to keep your damn mouth shut!” he yelled while grabbing her by
the hair with one hand.

Turning her face away from him, the man
placed the gun to her head. It seemed like an eternity to me as I
stared at the ruby and diamond-encrusted horseshoe gold ring on his
middle finger. The last thing I heard was the sound of the gun
being fired, and then my world went completely dark.

***

I jerked straight up in bed, drenched in
sweat and my heart racing. The nightmares every night were the
first clue that something wasn’t right with my recollection of
Mom’s death. Events of that mind-numbing night replayed in
excruciating detail, like a horrible horror movie revealing details
I’d long forgotten.

Running my hands through my hair, I swung my
legs over the bed. I leaned forward, putting my elbows on my knees
and my face in my hands. There were too many pieces to the puzzle,
and none of them fit together perfectly. I couldn’t shake the
feeling that I was overlooking a key connection between Bigsby and
Mom’s death.

Sighing, I sat up, scrubbing my hands over
my face. I stood, deciding against taking a shower. I needed to
burn off some frustration in my home gym this morning. I put on
sweats and a T-shirt, and I went downstairs to find the morning
ritual of the team gathering in my kitchen for breakfast in full
swing.

Immediately going to the coffee pot, I
grumbled under my breath, “Just one damn morning to myself—that’s
all I fucking ask.”

Despite the fact that each team member had
his own luxury apartment, it never failed that command central was
always at my penthouse. I didn’t know how, but over the years, our
living quarters had turned into a quasi-fraternity house with the
one elevator giving us unlimited access to each other’s space. It
was a good thing none of us had a special woman in our lives. God
knew no woman would be able to cope with the lack of privacy due to
the team running through our penthouse unannounced.

I poured a cup of coffee before glancing
around the kitchen again, taking stock of my team. Ram was at my
kitchen table, frowning into his coffee mug. Max was shoveling
bacon and eggs into his mouth like he hadn’t eaten in days. Rocco
was cooking while jamming to some hard rock pouring from his
tablet. Kevin was pacing back and forth with his cell pressed
against his ear.

Even with the lack of solitude, these four
men were my family, closer than flesh and blood. I’d take a bullet
for any one of them, and I knew they’d do the same for me.

There was Ram, of course—my best friend and
partner. Then Max and Rocco, brothers and my enforcers, would
handle all my dirty work. They’d knock the heads that needed
knocking together, roughing up all my enemies and keeping my
business associates in line—not because I forced them to do it, but
because the sick bastards loved the hell out of inflicting blood
and carnage. Kevin took care of the financing and accounting for
all my businesses. He was also a tech genius with connections with
people in high and low places, making him a highly skilled
intelligence asset. Everyone played their part. For years, we’d
tightened up my operations along the East Coast, making us all
filthy rich because of it.

We’d all made hard sacrifices to get to
where we were today, including loving and losing people we’d cared
about. Losing the love of my life, Maya, had cut me deep, sending
me to a dark and wild place. I’d sunk into the abyss of violence
and crime, abandoning Maya’s and my dream of leaving the criminal
world behind and starting anew.

Only Ram’s friendship had pulled me back
from the brink of despair and death. We’d focused on a way to go
legit. Real estate had been the fastest way out. We hadn’t been
fazed by the fact that the close-knit world of real estate wasn’t
about to let thugs like us through the doors. So we’d used bribes,
violence, and our connections in the criminal world to fuel our
ascent. When we’d broken ground on our first building, I’d known it
was just a prelude to the legitimate money to come, fulfilling
Maya’s dream.

I smiled. She would be so proud of me if she
were still alive. Many people underestimated me, but she hadn’t.
I’d beaten the odds by working hard, long hours to build my empire
from the ground up. What I hadn’t known about real estate I’d
figured out through trial and error. Now I was part owner of a
multibillion-dollar real estate development and investment company
with offices in New York and Miami, including a portfolio of condo
projects, hotels, and office buildings.

I stared at Ram. “Rough night?”

Ram looked up and nodded.

Max savagely bit off a piece of bacon.
“Yeah, right. After the gala, he was banging the shit out of that
socialite chick, Cate Bellisario.”

I smirked. “Did she tell you anything we can
use against Bigsby?”

We were ruthless. I didn’t mind taking a
hell of a lot of pride in that.

Ram stood up and stretched. “How could she?
She had my cock down her throat for half the night.” He groaned,
walking toward the refrigerator. “I’d thought I was into some
freaky shit, but damn, the weird shit she begged me to do to her
made me a little uncomfortable.” He pulled out a bottle of water
and then leveled me with a glare. “The things I do for the
job.”

Rocco looked over his shoulder and snorted.
“Poor baby. Fucking a hot chick is just such sweaty hard work.”

Ram punched him on the shoulder. “Shut the
fuck up.”

I leaned against the granite countertop,
gulping my coffee. “I didn’t tell you to fuck her. I said to use
her obsession over you to get more leverage on Bigsby.”

“You know me.” Ram grinned as he twisted
open the bottle. “I don’t mind going real deep in the name of
work.”

My lips tilted into a brief small smile. “I
bet you don’t,” I replied.

Max and Rocco chuckled.

Cate was a frequent patron at The McKay
Club. She had a seedy dark side she kept well hidden from her
fiancé Bigsby. I’d known, with a little nudge from Ram, Cate would
jump at the chance to fuck him. She was our ace in the hole. It
would be just a matter of time before she was so strung out on Ram
that she would do or say anything to keep getting fucked.

Kevin talked rapidly into his cell. “Are you
sure? … Okay. … Yes. Keep digging. Talk to you later.” His brows
knitted, his bewilderment evident, as he strode around the counter,
shoving his cell into his pocket. Opening the refrigerator, he
grabbed a bottle of water.

“What’s on the agenda for today?” Rocco
turned from the stove with his plate piled high. He sat down before
shoveling food into his mouth.

“We need to work on our leads.” I drained my
coffee cup and refilled it.

“Which ones?” Max asked.

“All of them,” I responded.

Kevin choked on his water. “All of
them?”

“Every damn one of them. The trail on Lexis
was getting cold, but now that we know Jeff Barolo and Bigsby are
linked, we need to work that lead and find out where Jeff’s hiding.
The Sinthia and Bigsby connection is still hot. We need to work
that angle ASAP.” I crossed my arms, looking at Kevin as he plopped
down. “So what else do we have on him?”

Kevin raked a hand over his face. “Nothing
new. I couldn’t find any ties between Bigsby and Ben. Are you sure
Ben was telling the truth about Bigsby cleaning Ben’s money through
his company Pomtonic International?”

“Yes,” I responded.

Kevin frowned. “I don’t have any information
verifying that yet. And UF-Star, the independent political action
committee spending money to advocate Bigsby for New York City’s new
mayor, is squeaky clean.”

“And the Jeff Barolo lead?” I asked.

“It’s going nowhere. I can’t locate him.
He’s off the fucking grid.”

Ram’s stoic expression turned grim. “So we
have nothing? Why the hell are we paying all this money for intel
if you can’t produce shit?”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You didn’t
let me finish,” Kevin snapped back.

“Go ahead,” Ram responded grudgingly.

Kevin slinked down in his seat. “Bits and
pieces of information about Jeff’s past are surfacing. He’s bad
news, and he’s had some assault charges. Plus, he’s on probation.
Eventually, he has to check in with his probation officer. So we’ve
got that covered. The Bigsby and Sinthia angle is dry, and what
little information I have, I haven’t quite put together, but I
will.” He crossed his arms.

“What about Sinthia’s background? Any
skeletons in her closet?” I asked.

“Nothing scandalous. She moved around a lot
up until she was seventeen. Her parents seem pretty straight-laced.
Her father, Ian Michaels, died years ago in some freak car
accident. Her mother, Grace Michaels, owns some overpriced teahouse
in Manhattan.” Kevin frowned. “But I did find something very
interesting. Sinthia has two birth certificates.”

I whistled as I rocked back on my heels.
“Two? How did you find them?”

“I started with her DMV record.” Kevin’s
voice was calm and easy. “Once I had that, it wasn’t hard to trace
her birth certificate. I just wasn’t counting on finding out she
had two.”

My lips tightened. “What else did you
find?”

“She has two names on record—Sinthia
Cruickshank and Sinthia Michaels,” Kevin responded.

My shoulders bunched, but I kept my face
expressionless. “Cruickshank?” I bit back the expletive hovering on
my tongue.

What the hell?

Cruickshank was the person Bigsby had
bragged about to Mom.

I started to mention what I knew, but then I
stopped. I needed hard information, not remnants from dreams that
didn’t make a bit of sense. I decided to wait until Kevin could dig
up more info before coming to a sound conclusion about what this
all meant.

“Yes, Cruickshank,” Kevin replied.

Ram inclined his head toward me. “What do
you think? Does she know?”

I scowled. “Do I look like a fucking mind
reader? I haven’t spent enough time feeling her out to know
anything concrete about her.”

“Oh, you did a hell of a lot of feeling her
out,” Max said. “I saw the way Sinthia looked after you were done
with her on the rooftop. The woman seemed well tousled.”

Max and Rocco chuckled.

I shot them a dirty look. “Yeah, okay. Laugh
it up, idiots.”

Kevin smirked. “What I do know is someone
tried real hard to hide her birth certificates, but they weren’t
counting on the fact that I’m really good at what I do—unearthing
shit they’d paid a boatload of money to bury.” He smiled smugly.
“The first birth certificate has her father listed as Ian Michaels
and her mother as Grace Michaels. The second certificate has her
father listed as Greer Lorne Cruickshank and her mother as Aubrey
Cruickshank.”

“Find out if the Cruickshanks are still
alive.” I rubbed my chin. “Put a tap on Bigsby’s cell and follow up
with your Fed contacts to see if they know anything about Bigsby.
If he’s laundering money, he has to be on someone’s radar.”

Rocco leaned back in his chair, raising a
brow. “Okay, I have one word to describe that idea—insane. An
unauthorized cell tap on the next New York City mayor?”

My jaw clenched. “So the fuck what?” I
countered. “We do that shit all the time.” I looked at Kevin. “Just
put the tap on.” Then I glared at Max. “I need you to put a tail on
Sinthia. Discreetly follow her. I want to know everything she does,
everywhere she goes, who she interacts with. I even want to know
who she’s fucking.”

Max threw back his head and roared with
laughter.

“I told you,” Kevin said smoothly, nodding
at Ram with a knowing look. “I won the bet. Now pay up, Ram.”

Ram threw his arms up in the air in
exasperation before taking out his wallet. He pulled out a crisp
hundred-dollar bill and slid it over to Kevin.

Kevin picked up the bill before loudly
snapping it with a wide smile. “I just love taking your money.”

I stiffened. “What bet?”

“I bet Ram that you’d crack and order Max to
follow her. Ram said you wouldn’t,” Kevin said, smiling slyly at
me.

I couldn’t hide my incredulity. “You
motherfuckers are taking bets on me? What else are you betting
on?”

“How long before you fuck her,” Rocco
admitted.

Totally deadpan, Max added, “Four thousand
dollars on the line, and given how long you and Sinthia were on
that rooftop last night, I might just win this bet.”

Kevin frowned. “Hey! Why didn’t anyone tell
me about that bet?”

“Because, Mr. Genius, we knew you’d win,”
Ram said to Kevin. Then he looked at me. “I can’t believe you
ordered Max to follow her. Damn it. She’s not who you should be
following. That should be Bigsby.”

“That’s for damn sure,” Max mumbled as he
got up. He put his plate and utensils into the dishwasher.

“Don’t tell me what I should be fucking
doing. I have millions invested in her. I have a vested interest in
keeping tabs on her,” I responded coolly.

Ram shook his head. “Bullshit! If you care
so much about her company, then give me the okay to contact the
other retailers so I can give them the thumbs-up to resume business
with her.”

My jaw twitched. It’d been a while since I
wanted to take Ram’s head off so badly. “Why do you give a shit?” I
asked, not bothering to hide the rage building within me. “You
interested in fucking her?” In an instant, my hackles rose as my
eyes accusingly locked onto Ram, and I slammed my empty cup on the
counter.

Ram’s mouth turned up into a smile. “She’s
hot, but I’m not a blocker. No matter how much you deny it, I know
you. You’ll be fucking her by the end of the month.”