Page 77 of Claimed By the Ruthless King

“No, sweetheart, there is only you, which is why my men can never know the true extent of our relationship.”

“They don’t seem like the loving type.”

“Love is a man’s greatest downfall, sweetheart.”

“And yet here you are, kissing me on the lips like it means something.”

“It means more than you’ll ever know.”

My heart leaps out of my chest, motivating me from the table. Time to put my best foot forward.

I have an aunt to confront, and a murderer to stick up for.

“Where the hell are you going?” says Salvatore, following me into the bedroom as I rifle through my bag, changing outfits.

“Shopping.”

If visiting an art gallery comes under that bracket…

“In the middle of a crisis?”

“Retail therapy can solve a lot of problems.”

“Going outside puts you in danger.”

“I’m walking down Fifth Avenue, not an abandoned side street. Relax.” I stand up, wafting hair away from my face. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

“You lied to me,” is the first thing I say when I burst into Aunt Viv’s art gallery.

She turns around, mortified, not because I know the truth, but because her client is hearing all of this.

“Mrs. Harrison,” she says in a cordial tone. “Will you give me five minutes?”

The woman turns her nose up at the oil panting. “Of course,” she says, slipping her purse into her bag.

I glance at Aunt Viv across the gallery, storming toward her.

“Let’s go somewhere quiet,” she says, sliding her hand across my lower back and leading me behind the desk, into the lunchroom.

I dump my bag on the couch, the smell of tea leaves and lies filling my nose.

“You told me the police broke up the Crows,” I say, jogging her memory. “But you were lying. Of course you were. I had to squeeze the truth out of you, but you weren’t even telling me the truth.”

“Phee,” begins Aunt Viv, taking a seat opposite me. Pain cuts across her brow, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles to find the words.

I’ll find them for her.

“You should have told me the truth about the Crows.”

“Some of it is the truth.”

“Sure, except for the part about my father.”

Aunt Viv rises in her seat, inhaling a shaky breath. “Have you seen him?”

“What?” I burst, a tear streaking down my cheek. She has basically confirmed everything. He is living in this city, leading a second generation of Crows.

“You told me the Crows were in the past, but they’re not. They’re flapping around the city causing trouble, and my father is the one orchestrating it all.” More tears fall as I begin to understand the weight of this situation. I never met my father, but this still feels like a betrayal, in many different ways.