The Hidden Truths Series Box Set

by Brittney Sahin

  A sharp pain pinched my core as I watched my dad on the last day he’d been alive. I stood erect and turned away from the screen, trying to force back the sudden emotions that choked me.

  “Both Andrei and Oleg were released from jail a few weeks before this. Konstantin didn’t waste any time.” Jake stood up and folded his arms across his chest, his brown eyes on me.

  “You think they killed my dad, or did Lauren? She would’ve had the easiest access to his pill bottles.” I still couldn’t believe I was having a conversation about who killed my father.

  “I’d bet it was Andrei and Oleg. We need to talk to the guard and access the video feeds from the lobby of your father’s home. I can’t get a warrant since this isn’t an official investigation. I’ll just have to access the security cameras the same way I did the bank and traffic cameras.”

  “Which is how?”

  “Illegally.”

  “Takes being a criminal to catch one, huh?” I was surprised at my ability to joke at such a time. Then my thoughts shifted to Olivia. She was knee deep in all of this.

  “What do you think we should do?” Jake walked over to the window and looked down onto the busy street, ten stories below.

  “I’ll have Declan set up a meeting with his associates—Konstantin will be there—then we’ll get the safe deposit box open, and take them all down.”

  “And how do you propose we do that?” He spun around to face me as he jabbed his hands through his dirty blonde hair.

  My lips twitched, and I smiled. “I think I have an idea.”

  23

  Olivia

  I didn’t know for sure if Connor was coming to the club tonight, not until Declan had pulled me into his office.

  I tapped my fingers on the bar and looked up at Bobby, who pressed his hands on the counter in front of me and angled his head to the side. “What’s up, Olivia? You haven’t been yourself lately.”

  The understatement of the year. “I’m just stressed. Working a lot.” I averted my gaze to my hands. I had to raise my voice as the bass thumped louder.

  Bobby reached across the bar and patted me on the shoulder. “You need to relieve some of that stress. Want to box tomorrow?”

  Yes, but there was too much going on. “Customers,” I said while nodding my head toward the two glamazon women who’d bellied up to the bar.

  Bobby shot me a half smile and went to take the women’s orders.

  A new favorite song of mine blared through the speakers, and the remix had my shoulders instantly moving. The perfect tone of the man’s voice sailed through the air, and I closed my eyes, not even fighting the heat that spread through my body as it raised the memory of Connor and me in bed.

  Music was one of the most powerful memory delivery systems, which is why, up until recently, I’d steered clear of any music that would remind me of Connor, of Jessie, the baby . . . of everything I’d lost. But maybe I had been wrong to avoid it. It made me feel like a shot of adrenaline was zipping from limb to limb, opening my body.

  Connor and I had never done drugs. We knew people who took pills at clubs or raves, but Connor was more raw and potent than any small white tablet could ever be. “You’re my drug, Liv,” he had whispered into my ear when we were at a club, dancing alongside the Mediterranean in Barcelona. After our time in Italy, we’d extended the trip by a week to pop over to Spain. We even spent a few days in Ibiza. It had been the best two weeks of my life.

  I opened my eyes when a pair of hands touched both my bare shoulders. A ribbon of silky heat rushed through my body at his touch. I knew those hands. I wanted them on me. Everywhere.

  “Connor,” I said his name without turning around.

  “How’d you know?”

  I shut my eyes to his deep voice, remembering how he’d lain in my bed this morning. Exposed. So damn erotic. “How could I forget the way your hands feel on me?”

  His warm breath was on my ear as he said, “Remember Ibiza?”

  So the song had sent him up memory lane, as well. With my eyes still shut, I nodded. Unable to move. To breathe. A fire had started in my belly, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be able to put it out.

  We’d made love on the beach while the waves ate away at the sand.

  I choked back the emotions that began to erode the happy memory—that was the night we’d gotten pregnant. I was almost positive. We hadn’t been safe that night.

  I was pretty sure the same thought sped to his mind, because his hands slipped free from my shoulders. I opened my eyes and stood up, turning to face him.

  His hands were tucked in the pockets of his black slacks, and his chest moved slowly beneath a dark T-shirt. “We need to talk, Olivia. But first, I need a word with Declan.”

  Oh God, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to stop him, but I knew what it would mean if I did. “He’s waiting for you,” I said, instead. “Come on.” I caught sight of Bobby stealing a glimpse of me, and I forced a smile.

  “What time will you be done with work?”

  “I can leave around one,” I answered as we made our way down the hall.

  “We can leave together?”

  I wondered what he wanted to talk about. Did he regret what we had done? I wanted to regret it, but I couldn’t bring myself to. The moments I’d spent in Connor’s arms had silenced the pain.

  “Connor.” Declan popped out of his seat and motioned for us to enter. He was alone in his office, and I took notice of the fact that the two cages were missing. Did he finally decide to redecorate? Thank God.

  Connor looked at me for a brief second, and there was something in his eyes—distress, maybe? I shut the door and followed him in.

  Declan was standing in front of his desk with his arm extended. “Good to see you. We finally ready to make things official between our two companies?”

  Connor rubbed a hand over his cheek before reaching into his pocket. “Here.” He handed over a folded piece of paper.

  That wasn’t the contract. What was it? A rubbery nervousness had taken hold of my legs. I sat in the chair near where Declan and Connor stood and pressed my hands atop the skirt of my cream-colored dress.

  Declan touched the black stubble on his jaw and stared down at the image in his hand. “I don’t understand.” He looked over at Connor.

  “That’s a shot of my father exiting the Capital James Bank in Manhattan. My father opened a safe deposit box the day he died.” Connor rubbed his hands together before folding his arms across his chest.

  What was going on? I straightened in my seat, gripping the arms of the chair, trying to steel myself.

  Declan cocked his head.

  “I think my father had planned on going to the Feds or blackmailing you. He clearly never had the chance, since he died of a heart attack.”

  Declan’s mouth opened, and then he snapped it shut. He turned and walked around to sit in his chair. “Why would your father go to the Feds?” he said at last. “Or blackmail me?”

  Connor remained standing. “More than likely, he planned on blackmailing you for a better business deal. My dad was a bit of a prick. I looked into the company’s financials. You were right when you told me Mathews Tech was in trouble. If Lauren hadn’t presented him with the Saudi opportunity—”

  “Lauren? You’re kidding, right? The only reason your old man hired her was for what was beneath her skirt. I came to your father with the deal—she’s just benefiting from it.”

  I tried not to appear too eager about the details of the exchange, but my surprise over Connor’s words had my eyes widening. I released my grip on the chair when I realized my knuckles were whitening.

  “Okay, well, fine—had you not brought the deal to Matthews Tech, the doors would be closed now. But I’m guessing the way the contract was secured was illegal. And not just in a corporate bribery sort of way.”

  Declan’s lips pinched together as he placed his clasped hands on his desk.

  “Which is why I believe my father planned on screwing y
ou. Maybe he wanted to back out of the deal—hell, I don’t know his intentions, but I think that there’s something in that bank that could be detrimental to you.”

  What was he getting at? My mind raced, seeking the insight that would keep me one step ahead.

  “I don’t have access to the box—he didn’t leave me the key. Guess he didn’t trust me, either. I can have the court open it, though.” Connor’s arms remained crossed, his stance firm. “I’ll give you whatever is in that box once it’s opened. I don’t need to see it.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Declan was leaning back in his chair now, his hands on his stomach. He didn’t look like he had a care in the world.

  “I want to make this deal with a clean conscience. I don’t want any lies or secrets hanging in the air. But I would like to make money. A lot of it.”

  “I thought you weren’t planning on staying in charge?” Declan challenged.

  Connor shrugged. “What can I say? Being rich has rubbed off on me. I’m not in the mood to give it up, yet.”

  Declan looked over at me, his dark eyes like knives. He didn’t say a word.

  “If you have the paperwork, I’m ready to sign. But as I mentioned, I don’t want any secrets. I need to meet who I’m working with—really working with.”

  “That can be arranged.” Declan’s eyes switched to thin slits as his attention shifted back to Connor. “Tomorrow night. I’ll let you know the location. But my associates will want proof of the weapon. Can you bring the prototype?”

  Oh God, it was happening. The meeting. But I couldn’t end the operation yet—I needed to track an actual shipment of weapons. And, apparently, I needed to get my hands on the box at Capital James Bank.

  Had Edward Matthews been murdered? Connor must be suspicious. How could he go through with this, especially knowing what he did?

  “I’ll get it,” Connor coolly responded.

  Declan was on his feet now. “Olivia, you can leave us alone for now.”

  No!

  I nodded, and my knees trembled as I stood. Connor faced me, the muscle in his jaw ticking. What was his game?

  “Save me a dance?” Connor asked.

  What? Was he kidding? “Sure,” I forced.

  Connor

  I searched the club for Olivia, but the bartender told me she was in her office. I went back down the hall I’d traveled before to get to Declan’s, and kept going until I found her room. Her door was open and she was sitting behind her desk, staring at her laptop.

  “Connor.” She looked up from the screen, and her lips straightened. “Hi.”

  I shut the door behind me and moved to her desk. Her office wasn’t nearly as large as Declan’s. It was minimalistic, with two floor lamps and two black leather chairs parked in front of her desk. One picture donned the wall behind her: the club’s logo, the phoenix rising from the flames.

  I had tried so hard to forget Olivia, but how does anyone forget a woman like her? And she’d had my baby in her . . . But this wasn’t the time to be thinking of that.

  “We should talk.”

  Olivia was up on her feet and fast. “Not here,” she said in a hushed voice.

  Of course not. I looked down at my watch. It was half past twelve.

  She stopped in front of me. Her eyes, a swirl of green and brown, locked on to mine. The neckline of her tight dress plunged low, offering me a swell of her soft flesh, and I had the urge to touch her collarbone and dip my hands lower.

  “Let’s dance.” I needed to hold her. Move with her like we used too.

  “I don’t know,” she said in a small voice as she looked down at the floor.

  When I reached for her hand, our fingers lacing, she didn’t protest. We moved down the hall, passing Declan’s closed office door, and stepped out into the club, weaving through people and pushing through the cryogenic smoke.

  The music hammered the room, sending vibrations through my body from head to toe.

  Olivia led me up the spiral staircase, and with each step, my desire for her increased. My blood was pumping hard as we made our way to a more dimly lit dance area.

  When she turned to face me, her eyes pinned me and my hand shot to her hip. I pulled her tight against me, and her lips touched mine. My cock grew painfully hard as my fingers slipped up under the silk of her dress.

  I had to stop myself. I didn’t want to draw another man’s attention to her unfucking believable body.

  But her hands were on mine, pulling them back until I was cupping her ass—over her dress, of course. Her command—the raw need of her gesture—had me so turned on that I thought I’d lose my mind.

  We weren’t dancing. Our bodies were grinding against each other. “We need to get the hell out of here,” I said after tearing my lips from hers.

  My eyes focused on her swollen pink lips, and I pulled her back to me without thinking. My tongue slammed hard inside her mouth, taking what was mine. What I’d been missing for years.

  Breathless, she pulled away. “Connor,” she said with a moan. “Let’s go.” She held my hand again as we fought through the crowd. We rushed out onto the street, and I practically shoved my ticket at the valet.

  With the New York buildings as a backdrop, I held her in my arms as we waited for my Jeep. I realized there was no turning back. How could there ever be? I’d never get enough of Olivia Scott—or Olivia Taylor, whatever she was calling herself.

  She didn’t know it, yet, but I would be her greatest ally in her revenge. And I wouldn’t stop until I took down the damn Russian mob boss. I’d kill him with my bare hands if I had to. I’d lay him at Olivia’s feet.

  And when it was done, maybe—just maybe—we could roll around in the sand in Ibiza again.

  24

  Olivia

  I’d lost my mind. It was official.

  The man who had taken off and left me alone in the hospital after the loss of our baby was now someone I craved and wanted more than I wanted my revenge. How was that possible?

  He moved his hand to my thigh, reaching for the silk of my panties. How was he going to drive a stick shift and—oh God . . .

  His fingers slipped beneath the fabric, and he teased me with his touch. Then, just as quickly, his hand was back on the stick shift. “You’re driving me crazy,” he announced in a throaty voice.

  “You’re the one torturing me,” I cried, shifting uncomfortably in the seat. My mind begged for a distraction. “I can’t believe you still have this Jeep. You don’t make enough money to buy a new car?” We’d made love in this car so many times.

  “Despite some painful memories,” I noticed his face grow hard for a brief moment, “I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. It’s in good shape. It was parked in a garage while I was in the Marines. And I’m always traveling around the world, so I rarely use it.”

  “Still, maybe it’s time to upgrade,” I teased.

  He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and when he spoke his voice was spiked with a serious dose of sexy deliciousness. “When I like something, I never let it go.”

  A flash of heat traveled back up my thighs, and I had to look out the window. My desire for him was at odds with the pain that lacerated me—the memory of him doing just the opposite of his promise. Of him leaving me.

  I gulped and attempted to force the teeter-tottering of my emotions away.

  The streets bustled with life, despite the late hour, and I blew out a breath as I stared out the window. Connor weaved in and out of cars, driving like the Jeep was a Ferrari. The sudden image of a shiny red rollercoaster popped into my mind as we neared my apartment.

  I’d been on coasters before, despite a fear of heights, and I had become almost obsessed with them in the last ten years. I needed the feeling they gave.

  As the coaster ascends the first steep arch, adrenaline pumps through you. The jerking motion propels you up, your stomach plays a game of kickball, and you wonder, What am I thinking? Then there’s the moment of free fall. The win
d slams in your face as you swoop down, the blood rushes to your ears, and you scream. It’s hard not to when your body is faced with the terror of death.

  But the rush . . . for those two minutes, you are more alive than ever.

  Connor had once given me that rush. But unlike the roller coaster, he hadn’t brought me safe back to earth. He’d crushed me, left me broken and alone. Until I felt like a shattered version of my former self.

  I’d faced my fears after him. I sought out the tallest, most intense rides on the East Coast. I kicked my fear of height’s ass. I even climbed that damn dangling rope in the gym at Quantico. And a surge of adrenaline and confidence wrapped me in a warm embrace with each little victory. But no amount of energy that coursed through my veins ever came close to manifesting the feeling that two little minutes with Connor Matthews once gave me.

  I covered my face with my hands.

  “What’s wrong?” He parallel parked outside my building. “Olivia, are you okay?”

  My shoulders flinched, and my eyes landed on his. “I’m fine.”

  Connor’s hand was on top of mine, and I stared down at it, blinking a few times. “Let’s go.” I pulled my hand free and went for my buckle.

  He offered me the gift of silence as we made our way to my apartment, but the tension mounted with each step we took. My body betrayed me as I ached to be touched by him again.

  Once inside, I dropped my purse and keys to the floor and spun to face him. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream at him or shove my hands in his hair.

  “Olivia.” He grazed his knuckles across my cheek. “You ready to talk?” Gone was any hint of sexuality.

  I lowered my head and took a step back, and his hand fell to his side. “About?”

  “I think you know what about.” He angled his head as his brows pulled together, belying the heated moments we’d shared at the club and in the car.