Buried Lies (Hidden Truths)

by Brittney Sahin

  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.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  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 wind 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.

  “Did you sign the contract?” I sputtered.

  “I did.” He brushed past me and entered the living room.

  “Do you think they murdered your father?” I whispered.

  I shouldn’t have asked that.

  He jabbed his hands through his hair, messing it up, and shook his head. “Does it matter?”

  Of course it mattered. How could he ask me that? “Connor, if Declan had anything to do with your dad’s death, how can you join forces with him? Your dad was a horrible man, but he didn’t deserve to die.” I rubbed my arms, not sure what I was attempting, or why.

  The crease in his forehead deepened, and he observed me like he would a hurt anim
al, whimpering on the ground for help. “Olivia.”

  “If your dad was murdered because of his relations with Reid Enterprises, how do you know that you’re not next?” Okay, so I was breaking the rules, but I had to. “You’re smarter than that.”

  “I thought you wanted me to work with Declan. You’ve been pushing that, right? I mean, sometimes you gave me pause, but for the most part you’ve encouraged me to meet with him.” He stepped around the coffee table and closed in on me. “Am I mistaken?”

  I gritted my teeth and tried to hold back the truth.

  “Liv.”

  My desire to protect him was too strong. “You can’t do this, Connor. Please, don’t do this,” I pleaded, surprised by the desperation in my voice.

  In one quick movement, I was back in Connor’s arms, and he was kissing me. Stealing the breath from me.

  My hands pressed against his chest, and I pulled back to look up at him.

  “I was beginning to worry you didn’t care.” His heart pounded beneath my palms as he stared down at me.

  My head spun as I wondered how much he knew.

  He leaned in and whispered into my ear, “If you go after Konstantin alone, you’re going to get yourself killed.”

  Konstantin. He knew. Oh my God, how did he know? “What are you talking about?”

  “Stop, Liv. Stop lying.” He stepped away from me and walked into my kitchen. I assumed he was getting a drink to cool himself off.

  When he returned with two beers, I took a bottle from him and braced it with both hands like a lifeline.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that the men responsible for Jessie’s death were in league with Declan?” He brought the beer to his lips and crossed the room to the bay window. “Shit, Olivia. Is this really your plan—to infiltrate the Russian mafia? If anyone discovers who you are, you’ll end up in the damn Hudson.”

  Defeated, my eyes widened, and I set the bottle on the coffee table. “How long have you known?”

  “Today. I’ve been trying to put all the pieces together.” He turned to face me. “I think my dad was suspicious of Declan and had his driver look into Reid Enterprises. After my dad opened the safe deposit box, he died, and his driver was killed and dumped in the river. Typical Russian hit.” He blinked a few times as if in disbelief at the sound of his words. “Can you imagine what they’d do to you if they found out who you are?”

  “I can handle myself.” I moved away from him, unable to look at him any longer.

  “Revenge is a dangerous game. I don’t know how you’ve managed to pull this off, or what made you think you could take down Alexander Konstantin, but you can’t do it alone.” Connor’s jaw ticked. He expected to protect me? It was absurd. I’d been dancing around with the idea of how I’d keep him out of jail.

  I twisted back around, my eyes burning, my hands fisting at my sides. “You signed the contract! You made a deal with the bastard. Why?”

  He dragged his hands down his face, holding them at his chin for a moment. “Olivia.” He paused, his eyes on me, “I did it for you.”

  “What?” I blanched. “What are you talking about?”

  Connor took a seat on the couch, set his bottle on the table, and looked up at me. “Declan needed to trust me, so I gave him a reason to. Now he not only trusts me, but he’s set up the meeting with Konstantin.” He rolled his shoulders back, loosening his apparent tension. “If I don’t do the deal with Declan, we won’t be able to capture the SOBs.”

  Oh my God. This was what I had wanted. And I had told Blake that Connor could help us. Thank God he had figured it out for himself.

  Well, some of it.

  Connor still didn’t know who I really worked for. Did it matter? I felt queasy as I contemplated shedding my cover.

  “How long have you been plotting? What do you know?”

  I grabbed my drink, allowing the liquid to cool my insides as I swallowed. Holding the bottle to my chest, I studied Connor, wondering what to say. Should I keep the truth buried? Would he be safer in the dark?

  Probably not. He was already a part of this, and now he was offering me a chance to catch everyone. Was it fate that Connor had walked back into my life right when I needed him?

  “Connor.” I took a step closer to the couch, and my eyes drifted to his thighs, the hard muscles evident even beneath the thin black pants he wore. “When Jessie died, I almost died with her. It was too much to handle.”

  He leaned back into the couch, but his face remained expressionless.

  I sank onto the couch next to him but kept a few inches between us. I shifted to face him, but my hands trembled in my lap.

  His hands came down over mine, grounding me. “When the men who killed Jessie were dismissed on some crazy technicality—basically, Konstantin paid someone off—it fired me up.” I shut my eyes, and his grip tightened. “I was so angry. I made it my mission in life to take Konstantin down.”

  “You’re patient. I wouldn’t have been able to wait.” His hand was now on my forearm, and his fingers ran up and down my skin. It was comforting to have someone in my corner, after all this time. Blake and Sean had my back, but this was different. “How does Declan fit into all of this?”

  “I learned of their connection when studying Konstantin. He bailed out Reid Enterprises three years ago. He revived Declan’s businesses, including The Phoenix and The Wynn, Jessie’s club—our club.” My lungs filled with air as I tried to calm myself, but I caught a scent of Connor’s cologne, and it left me lightheaded.

  “And?” His eyes claimed mine.

  “Declan partnered with that Russian fighter John Jackson, who is a member of Konstantin’s close circle of scumbags. Konstantin ponied up money for all of his clubs and restaurants, including the newest one in Vegas. So, I decided to go after Konstantin from a different route, through Declan.”

  “Wow. This is nuts, Liv.” He smoothed a hand across his jaw. “I had my friend Ben look into Declan, but he came up empty.”

  I sorted through the file cabinet of facts that I had tucked away in my brain. “Konstantin is a silent investor in all of Declan’s clubs. Under the table money. The only one on the books is the fighter.” I rolled my neck, tension torturing my body. “There’s a reason why Ben couldn’t find anything. Konstantin keeps his associations under lock and key.”

  “But you figured it out?” His head tilted and brows slanted. “Why’d you keep me in the dark so long?” He removed his hands from me and stood back up.

  “I didn’t know if I could trust you. We weren’t on the best of terms until the other night, so I . . . held back.”

  His shoulder blades pinched together, and he massaged the back of his neck. “You warned me tonight, because—what? We slept together? If we hadn’t, would you have kept me in the dark and let me go down with Declan and Konstantin? Or worse, let me find out when it was too late, when Konstantin had already pegged you . . .”

  I realized it wasn’t rage. He was worried about me. “Connor, I’m so sorry.” At least I was apologizing about something I’d actually done this time.

  Facing me now, there was a familiar glint in his eye. “Let me take care of Declan. And Konstantin. I have a friend in the FBI who came to help me. It’s not an official investigation, but I think it’s safer to take these guys down off the books.”

  FBI. The three letters I was still keeping from him, and I wasn’t sure why.

  “You never know who Konstantin has in his pocket. Let my friend and I do this. Quit your job. Go somewhere safe until this blows over. I have friends who can protect you.”

  I laughed. Not a real laugh—a sarcastic, are-you-kidding-me, slightly hysterical laugh. I stood up until we were standing just inches apart. “Even if I wanted to run, Konstantin would find me. He’d make me disappear. The only reason I didn’t wind up in the Hudson after Jessie died is because the case never made it to trial. If it had, I would have vanished. You and I both know that.”

  Connor wrapped his large hands over my
forearms and leaned in close. “Then what the hell are you thinking, getting involved in this? Do you have a death wish?”

  Yes.

  Maybe.

  I was an FBI agent, but that didn’t mean I was immune to Konstantin. I hadn’t thought about what would happen once I captured him, but now I knew he was making deals with terrorists. Perhaps Homeland and the CIA could put Konstantin in some dark cell and throw away the key. I wanted an island of scorpions, snakes, and other creepy crawly things reserved for him.

  He’d gotten off the hook when he had my sister murdered, but a man who dealt with terrorists? That was treason.

  My lips twitched at the thought.

  “Olivia?” Connor snapped my attention back.

  “What?” I couldn’t help but shriek as I channeled the rage that had curled up inside me for so many long years.

  “I’m not going to lose you again.” The deep timber of his voice shook me.

  It took me a moment to process his words. “You left me, Connor,” I said slowly. “Remember? There’s nothing to lose.” A red hot flare of anger burst through my system, and I stepped back, but he imprisoned me with his gaze.

  His mouth tightened and his breath hitched as the sweet spell of lust blustered down my neck, diving deep into my stomach.

  I almost lost my footing as he came at me full throttle. I stumbled back, and he pinned me against the window with his body. His hands held my face as he pulled my lips against his.

  An intense heat lit my core with the familiar spike of adrenaline.

  He nipped at my lip, pulled back, and his green eyes bore into me. “Do you want me to stop?” he said in a half-groan, half-growl.

  I felt his hard length strained by the fabric of his slacks, and instead of vocalizing my answer, my hand slipped down to touch him. He dropped his hands to hold my waist and leaned into me. He nuzzled my neck as I unzipped his pants and tucked my hand inside, working through the opening of his boxers.

  “Liv.” My name was a moan on his lips as he lightly bit my bare shoulder.

  His hands were on my back now, working fast at my zipper.

  I wasn’t sure how we had ended up here again, but we were both burning with need.