Page 16 of Iron Princess
One corner of his mouth climbs. “In the world, actually.”
“I think I’m in love.”
The other corner rises. “So that’s what it takes.”
“With the cars,” I say, clarifying.
He breaks our stare and glances out over his collection in a manner that I would expect a king to use to survey his adored subjects.
“How many are there?”
“Here? A hundred fourteen. But I have over four hundred, total.”
I practically choke on the number. “How?”
“Wet work pays.”
One would think my awe would be dampened at the mention of the blood money he used to buy and rebuild all these beautiful vehicles. One would also be wildly wrong.
“Is this your front? How you launder money?”
He shrugs as he walks away. “Something like that. Come on.”
I can’t tear my gaze away from the cars, and I reach out to caress the back of one side mirror. The chrome is impeccable. Like it just rolled off the assembly line.
“Temperance.” My name echoes through the massive warehouse, and he shuts the tailgate of the Scout loud enough to catch my attention. He has my carry-on in one hand and my duffel over his shoulder.
Kanehas them, I should say.He has a name.
My earlier question comes back to the forefront. “Is Kane really your name, or another alias?”
I’m asking a million and one questions for several reasons. One, because information is power. And two, because it’s keeping my mind off freaking out about my brother. If Mount hadn’t ordered me to do what Kane says, I would be demanding we go find Rafe right now. I’m saving that up for another five minutes, and then I’ll be on him.
“Does it matter?”
He lowers my carry-on to sit on its wheels and opens a gate that blocks the freight elevator. It’s the kind you see in movies, but I have never seen one in real life.
I step inside and wait while he closes the gate before hitting the button for the third floor. “You know my real name. It seems only fair.”
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Not because I’ve fucked you?”
“Don’t remind me.”
I truly mean that because if he says more, I’m going to be thinking about how badly I want him to do it again.Which can’t happen.Not only because he’s a hit man, but because I need to stay focused on Rafe.
But the incredible smell rolling off him now that we’re in this enclosed space reminds me that not everything about him is terrible.
The elevator stops, and he pauses before going through the motions to let us out. “Yes. It’s my real name.”
There’s something unspoken in that admission. Like I need to guard his real name with my life because it could really fuck up his world if I disclosed it.
I should be running to the cops with that information. To Valentina’s husband, at the very least. Or even to Ariel. But I don’t want to, and not only because my boss’s husband would probably be the one to put a hit on me if I got them involved with this situation. Working for Keira now has something in common with growing up in the bayou—we handle things ourselves. No outsiders.
The thought flies out of my head as I take the first step out of the elevator.
Oh. My. God.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
