Page 60 of Lethal Obsession

“And he didn’t just come to Paris because he was running from Miami, either,” Lars continues. “Lex could have gone to a thousand places. He chose to be here, at your piano recital.”

His words are so unexpected, and yet so profoundly what I need to hear, that I grip his hand. “I need to know that he’s all right. Will you tell me when you hear from him?”

He glances down at our joined hands. “Yes,” he says quietly. “I’ll tell you when I hear from him. Although after seeing you together last night, I imagine you’ll hear from him before I do.” A spasm of something I can’t read flashes through his eyes, there and gone.

My face burns with a sudden rush of heat. Lars, taking it in, gives me a twisted smile, his eyes flashing once again with that same emotion, something dark and painful and quite unlike his normal easygoing jocularity.

“Don’t worry about Lex.” There’s a slightly rough edge to his voice I’ve never heard before. “I’ve spent a lifetime worrying that he’ll die, but somehow he never does. He just never quite manages to live, either.”

Before I can ask what exactly he means by that, Mickey emerges from his suite looking marginally less terrible. “Come on, Lars,” he says, his voice rasping with exhaustion. “My father is expecting us. Let’s go.” He glances at me. “Don’t worry,” he says, unconsciously echoing Lars’s words a moment ago. “Lex will be fine, Ofelia. He always is.”

Benny and Lourdes don’t emerge from their respective beds until midafternoon, by which stage Mickey and Lars have been gone for hours, sequestered in my father’s hotel a few blocks away.

“How I fall asleep?” Lourdes shakes her head, yawning, her Spanish accent heavier than usual with tiredness. “I am in the Jacuzzi, and Mickey give us cocktails, and this is all I remember.”

“Two minutes in that Jacuzzi,” Benny says, “and I’m ashamed to say both of us could barely stand. Even so, I carried you to bed and tucked you in like the gentleman I am, before passing out myself.” He grins wickedly. “In Lars’s bed, obviously.”

“I am so sad we end the party!” Lourdes sips her coffee, looking adorably disheveled. “But you,” she says, eyeing Benny slyly. “You and Lars are making so much noise when I wake up this morning, I have to put pillow over my head.”

“The man is a fucking god.” Benny is clearly elated, despite looking rather the worse for wear.

“I thought he was a Viking?” I hand him a chilled orange juice, which he gulps gratefully.

“You can call it Heaven or Valhalla,” he says, wiping his mouth and grinning. “Either way, this morning was definitely a religious experience.” He beams, looking entirely unrepentant, and Lourdes giggles.

Neither seems to have noticed anything remotely unusual, which strikes me as strange, given the events of the night.

“This morning?” I try to keep my tone casual. “You’re slipping, Benny. I thought you’d have kept Lars up all night.”

“Sadly, no.” Benny shakes his head. “I have no idea what was in those drinks your brother made, but they were fucking lethal. I could barely stand up after one, and I’m usually indestructible. Fortunately,” he says, giving me a saucy wink, “I had a very pleasant wake-up call.”

I smile blandly, but inside, I’m absolutely seething.

Family business is one thing.

Drugging my friends to get them out of the way is a different matter entirely.

I am going to murder my brother.

Bryce casts me a warning look that only confirms my suspicions. “So,” he says, clearly determined to distract Benny and dissuade me from asking any more awkward questions, “Andersson is actually gay, then? We’ve never been too sure which way he rolls.”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure Lars rolls anything on offer,” Benny says cheerfully. He gives Bryce and Luis a flirty glance. “But after the night I just gave him, I predict he’ll roll in my direction again before long.”

They both snort. “Good luck with that,” Bryce says, giving Luis a knowing look. “Lex and Lars aren’t exactly renowned for celibacy, and Mickey’s no better.” Seeing my face, he reddens. “No offense,” he mutters.

Oh, like it’s Mickey’s sex life that’s upsetting me.

And even if I did care who Mickey is sleeping with, I’d still be far more disturbed by the fact that he casually drugged my two closest friends to keep them quiet while there was a shoot-out going on in the street.

I fold my arms and glare at them both until they get the hint and take their lies to another part of the salon.

But I can’t pretend their comments don’t upset me. Almost as much as the fact that Alexei is somewhere out on the streets alone, presumably being chased by people who want him dead.

The thing is, I’ve seen enough of Alexei under pressure to know that he’s a very hard man to kill.

Unfortunately, I also know he’s a very hard man to resist.

My father’s men joke about Alexei’s and Lars’s escapades when they think I’m not listening. I’m well aware that among Mickey’s crew the term trip to Miami has become a euphemism for anything fucking goes.