Inhaling slowly, I hold onto my shit. “That’s okay. Can you remember anything he said?”

  “Not really.” She looks down. “I was never smart enough to follow their conversations. They always talked about things I didn’t understand.”

  Frowning, I try to imagine what that could be, if there were any business deals she heard about that I could piece together. “You don’t remember any of the words they said? Maybe I can figure it out.”

  She starts to say no, but then she inhales quickly. “I remember one thing! He was a germaphobe… I think.”

  My chin pulls back, and I don’t know how that’s useful–or if it’s even real since she was tripping on mushrooms. “Why did you think that?”

  “He was always talking about stuff being clean or cleaning stuff.” Her brow furrows, and she taps her forehead. “Maybe he said it needed cleaning.”

  It takes all my power to hold my expression neutral. “That’s good, Hana.” I squeeze her hands. “One last question. It’s a hard one. Okay?” She watches me, waiting, and I proceed with caution. “Did they ever mention Victor? Or did you and Debbie ever see Victor or hear about him being with them?”

  Her face pales, and her round eyes blink away. Lifting her hand out of mine, her thumb is on the way to her mouth when it stops.

  Lowering it slightly, she looks from her digit to me and does a little smile. “I remembered.”

  My breath picks up. “What did you remember?”

  “Not to chew my thumb.”

  “Hana!” My breath rushes out in a hiss. “About Victor–what do you remember about him?”

  “Nothing.” She grits her front teeth, and anger lines her face. “I never want to remember him as long as I live.”

  “Okay.” I exhale slowly as I stand, pulling her into a hug. “You don’t have to. You’ve done really well. I’ll take it from here.”

  Our New York apartment is the same as when I left it after the gala–clean, shining wood, somewhat familiar, and completely uncomfortable.

  I’m glad Hutch and Scar are with us, even if the guys are preoccupied with tracking down Trip and our new mystery man, Ivan X.

  I filled Hutch in on everything my sister told me on the short flight from Charleston, and he relayed the information to Dirk, who’s running searches on this new name from his place in Hamiltown.

  “Are you going to see Trip or meet him somewhere?” I watch as Hutch uses a tracking app on his phone to locate our friend. “He lives a few floors down, so he’s probably there now.”

  “Yep, just checking to see if this thing works.” Even in simple jeans and a black tee with a black jacket on top, he looks like a model.

  He’s so tall and broad, and the muscle in his square jaw moves as he thinks. Despite the shitty timing, I can’t help wanting to trace my tongue along it. He’s so lickable.

  “For now, while he’s unaware of our presence, I’m going to watch where he goes and hope it leads somewhere incriminating.”

  “Did you have anything in particular in mind?”

  He hesitates a moment before answering my question. “There’s an ATM in Brooklyn that handles cryptocurrency. Dirk traced several transactions in the accounts we’re monitoring to that machine. My hope is he’s the person making them, or one of the persons.”

  “It’s all so confusing. What are you going to do once you find the men behind it all?”

  “Not what your uncle wants me to do,” he grumbles. “We’re going to obtain warrants for their arrest and hope we can build a case that will stick.”

  A sick, uncomfortable tightness is in my stomach, and I almost hate to ask. “Is there any chance of recovering our money? Or the money I sent that blackmailer?”

  Intense green eyes hold mine. “Absolutely. If we’re able to prove they took it, we’ll recover it from whatever holdings they have. I said I’d get your money back, and I will.”

  Smiling, I walk to where he stands, placing my hand on his arm and kissing his cheek. “I’m not worried as long as you’re here.”

  He slides his thumb along my jaw, looking deep into my eyes. “Have you thought about what I said the other night?”

  My chest squeezes, and I nod. Standing here completely sober, in the light of day, I remember him saying he was falling in love with another member of my uncle’s family.

  “I’ve been thinking about it pretty much nonstop.”

  “No matter what happens, I want you to remember it. Okay?” A trickle of dread filters through my chest, but I nod as he continues. “You’re mine to protect. Hana is part of that deal. I won’t let anyone hurt either of you.”

  Sliding my arms around his neck, his words replace the fear in my veins with calm satisfaction. When he turns my face and covers my mouth with his, my satisfaction turns to lust.

  He might be falling in love with me, but I know I’m falling in love with him.

  28

  Hutch

  The tone shifts the moment we touch down in New York. It’s in the tension in my muscles; it’s in the hardening of Blake’s expression, like she’s preparing for battle. It’s even in the way Hana is more fidgety and nervous. Scar is the only one quietly resolved, but his expression never changes.

  I’m glad he’s with us. Heaviness and danger are all around, and I’m preparing to move the minute Dirk gives me the word.

  I’ve filled Scar in on what Blake learned from Hana before we left. Ivan X could be anyone. Hell, once Blake told me her sister was on mushrooms, I realized his name might not even be Ivan. Either way, we’re starting with what we know.

  “You’ve met this guy.” I’m sitting across from Scar, giving him the breakdown of Trip my brother sent us on the flight over.

  He graduated from Iona Prep, dropped out of Columbia after two years. He’s into horses, gambling, and philandering, but no established criminal behavior. He doesn’t need to be a criminal. He’s a bored, entitled, trust-fund asshole who associates with shady as fuck characters.

  With a low exhale, I realize the same could be said for Blake and Hana, the only difference is they’re trying to get out. Trip seems happy to stay right in the middle of it.

  “Is he smart enough to be the leader?” Scar’s low voice is thoughtful.

  My brother’s theory on mobster hierarchy drifts through my mind. “He’s smart, but I don’t think Trip’s the head vampire.”

  Scar’s wolf eyes meet mine. “The problem with lesser vampires is they’re still fucking lethal.”

  The problem is, I don’t think Trip’s necessarily lethal either. He’s something in between. “He's the skeleton key.”

  Blake orders Asian takeout and has it delivered. Beef and broccoli for her, miso soup for Hana, sushi for Scar, and sweet and sour pork for me.

  “It’s ecumenical,” she laughs, pulling the white paper boxes out of the brown bag. “All Asians are welcome here.”

  I love that she’s making the best of a tense situation, considering the pressure we’re under. I know she’s worried about her sister, she’s worried about her friend, and she’s worried about the money.

  I want to sweep her up in my arms and carry her away from this mess, but we have to settle these matters before I can do that. I’ve promised to get her money back. I promised her uncle to get these guys behind bars. I intend to keep both.

  “How did the packing go?” My voice cuts through the shuffling of boxes and plastic cutlery.

  “I’m all done.” Hana looks up from where she’s sipping chicken broth with a few chunks of tofu and seaweed.

  “I’m pretty much done.” Blake bites the head off a steamed broccoli stem covered in deep brown gravy. “I have a few things left to pack, mostly books and items I don’t want left here unattended.”

  “We’ll give it a day, and if nothing happens, I’ll go to Trip and get the ball rolling.”

  “Natasha texted me wanting to get together.” Blake looks to Hana, who makes a face like she’s gagging. “I don’t know if we’ll follow up, but I don’t like not answering. It’s possibly the last time we’ll see her for a long time.”

  “I didn’t think you liked Natasha.” Hana’s voice is soft, like she doesn’t want to speak in front of Scar and me. “You said she was an opportunistic mean girl.”

  “She’s definitely fake.” Blake polishes off a thin slice of beef. “But she’s been really nice since Debbie. I think she’s trying to be a friend–as much as she knows how.”

  Dinner is finished, and cleanup consists of carrying our trash to the bin in the kitchen. I’m all prepared to suggest Blake and I visit the roof while I wait to hear from my brother, but just like a good cock blocker, Scar catches my arm.

  “Looks like our man is headed out. You ready?”

  “We’ll give him a minute and follow.” I leave the Beretta in my duffel, strapping the Glock to my ankle.

  I don’t expect to need it, but it’s always good to be prepared. Hesitating before we head out into the night, I go to where Blake’s standing in the kitchen holding a glass of wine.

  “I don’t know how long we’ll be out. I want to track this guy everywhere he goes.”

  She nods, setting her glass on the island. “Sundays aren’t typically party nights. Hopefully you’ll find what you’re after.”

  “If not I’ll confront him. I won’t keep us here longer than necessary.”

  “I’ll be glad when this is over.”

  “If you decide to go out, just let me know where you are.” A little smile curls her lips, and she nods. I hook a finger under her chin, lifting her face so I can plant a light kiss on them. “Be safe.”

  The Vogue is a typical, live music venue. A stage is in the back corner, and wooden tables and chairs line the walls. A VIP section is in the back, separated from the rest of the club by velvet ropes.

  Naturally, that’s where Trip is headed. I come to attention when I see he’s meeting a guy I don’t recognize from any of our previous encounters.

  New guy is dressed in jeans and a denim jacket off his shoulders. His flat-brimmed hat is tilted, and he looks like a low-rent gangster wannabe. It reminds me of what Blake told me about Hana’s memory. Ivan X always tried to be a tough guy like Greg.

  This guy is nothing like Greg, but he’s definitely trying to look tough. Trip seems unaffected. He’s dressed in his usual slacks and blazer, this time in a rust-brown silk over a white shirt. He sits at the small table and signals the waiter.

  “We can’t hear what they’re saying,” I grumble, turning to face the bar. “Not sure how useful this is going to be.”

  Scar is hidden from Trip’s view by a thick column, and the low light and semi-crowded venue makes me hope he doesn’t recognize me. Not that I’m particularly worried about being spotted. It’ll simply up the timeline.

  My phone buzzes, and I look down. It’s a text from Blake. Decided to hook up with Natasha and Rainey. Won’t be late.

  I quickly reply with thanks, and my attention returns to Trip nursing a tumbler of clear liquid I assume is vodka. The new guy pulls out his phone and appears to be bored as he taps the screen several times.

  Trip sits up and takes his phone out of his breast pocket, examining the screen and nodding. The guy shoots the beverage he was holding and stands, abruptly leaving. Trip remains seated, finishing his drink at a leisurely pace, a satisfied grin on his face.

  My eyes go to Scar’s, and he lifts his chin. I’m not sure what this means or what to do until my phone buzzes with another text. It's Dirk. $25K just moved from the new account to Trip’s.

  It’s all I needed to know. I turn my phone to Scar, and his brow lowers. His expression goes dark, and I look back to where Trip has just polished off the last of his drink and stands, straightening his blazer.

  We’re on our feet, following him out into the damp night. My friend is breathing like a bull on red, and when Trip takes a sharp turn down a narrow alley, Scar moves so fast, it’s a blur.

  With a sharp slam, Trip is pinned against the wall by the neck.

  Scar’s fist closes over his windpipe, and Trip’s expensive loafers dangle, kicking against the wall as he struggles for his life. “You’re the asshole blackmailing Hana?”

  My partner’s head tilts to the side like he’s about to take a bite.

  Trip claws at Scar’s fist around his neck, his face red and grimacing. “Stop,” he snorts.

  Slowly, I approach where my partner is strangling the life out of this piece of shit. As I told Hugh, I don’t condone violence. I don’t think of myself as a vigilante, and I certainly would not take someone out unprovoked.

  I’ve been provoked.

  “Let go…” Trip grunts, trying to push Scar off with his foot.

  My partner won’t be moved. “You were her friend. You exploited her, assaulted her–”

  “NO…” Trip’s nose is running, and his wild eyes meet mine. “Trying to help.”

  As much as I want to let Scar continue, I exhale slowly, and put my hand on his shoulder. “Let him speak.”

  It’s a hard order to follow, but my partner releases him, stepping back with a growl. Trip falls to his ass on the wet pavement, dropping back against the brick wall of the alley. His knee is bent, and he’s holding his neck as he gasps for breath.

  “Choose your words wisely,” Scar warns.

  I’m not going to hold him back if this piece of shit doesn’t say what we need to hear. I’ve had enough of his lies, pretending to be Blake’s friend.

  “I’m trying to help them,” he finally croaks out.

  Scar makes a move like he’ll grab him by the neck agan, but I shoot out my hand, holding him by the chest, even though I could never stop him in a rage.

  “How are you helping?” Disbelief drips in my tone.

  “Blake told me she was being blackmailed.” He lifts his chin, regaining his strength. “When she said it was a porn racket, I knew who it was.”

  “Who was it?”

  “Ivan is the only one who does film.”

  My eyes meet Scar’s, and we hesitate. “Continue.”

  “I was getting her money back.” Trip scowls at me like it should be so obvious.

  I’m not buying it. “You expect me to believe you?”

  “I don’t give a shit what you believe. It’s the truth.” He rubs his hand over his eyes. “Blake’s been good to me. I owe her.”

  “You’re damn right you do.” I grip the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. “I don’t like your friends, and I don’t like your looks. If I find out you’re lying to me, I’ll take it out of your hide.”

  His eyes close, and he shakes his unfeeling head. Releasing his shirt, I shove him back against the wall, rising to my full height.

  Scar is still glaring hard like he doesn’t care if this guy is telling the truth. He’ll do anything to protect Hana. I get that.

  Trip shakes his head, still managing to put on the act. “You let that guy do these things?” His voice is raspy from the near-strangulation he received.

  “He’s working his angle. I let him.”

  “What angle is that?”

  “You messed with his girl.”

  Trip’s brow furrows. “But I thought you and Blake were–”

  “Hana. He’s going to protect Hana.”

  A bitter laugh rasps from Trip’s damaged windpipe. “Good luck.”

  It’s not the first time I’ve gotten that response to helping Blake’s sister, but I know how important she is to Blake. So she’s important to me.

  “You’ve got twenty-four hours, then I’m coming for you.” I signal to Scar, and he hesitates before taking a step to follow me.

  Trip slowly pushes himself to his feet, leaning against the wall and narrowing his eyes. “Hey, what would you say to a little three-way split? I could skim it right off the top, and you could still be a hero.”

  Anger roars to life in my chest, and I catch him by the front of his silk shirt. “Didn’t you get enough or are you asking for more?”

  He does a little snap-point with his finger. “That was a test. Just making sure you’re not secretly a bad guy.”

  “Are you familiar with the phrase ‘morally gray’?”

  “Yes, and it’s not you. That guy,” he nods towards Scar. “One hundred percent. But you? Brutally moral.”

  Pulling him closer, I get right in his face. “Blake belongs to me now. You mess with her, you’re messing with me.” I release him with a shove. “Return her money, all of it, or you’ll see how brutal I can be.”

  We start to go, but his voice stops us.

  “One thing I don’t understand.” Pausing, I turn to see what he’ll say. “You big shot detectives never asked why.”

  I’ll take his bait. “Why what?”

  “Victor Petrova stole millions from Charles van Hamilton. Grisha manages a whole operation to launder the money. Some two-bit minion goes after Hugh’s niece, and you’re called in like it’s a mob war. Why?”

  Scar’s fists are balled, and he’s ready to snatch him up again, but I hold him back. “Are you trying to say you know something?”

  “No.” Shaking his head, he looks down, exhaling a chuckle. “But I’d be asking why all of this is happening. What’s the bad blood? It’s something I’d want to know.”

  “I’m not you.”

  We leave him sitting on the damp street, but his words itch in my brain. As soon as we’re back, I’ll ask Hugh about what Trip is saying, whether there’s more to this than I thought. In the meantime, it’s after two, and I have one more visit to make.

  29

  Blake

  “Look at this one–it’s your first Virgin cruise!” Hana cries with a laugh. “You were a virgin on the Virgin!”

  “Shut up. I was only thirteen.”

  “Who allowed me to wear those glasses?” She turns the phone so I can see her cat-eye purple frames on her tow-headed, ten year-old self. “I look like an elf.”

  “You look adorable.”

  We’re sitting on the edge of my bed swiping through old photographs when Natasha’s text appears on my phone. You’re back, beesh! Let’s celebrate. Meet me at Gibson’s in twenty.