Beautiful Beast (Gypsy Heroes #3)(135)

After you cut all the bullshit about making the world a safer place and my gnawing shame that I was not there for Luke when he needed me, what is left? A sad, lonely, despicable bitch, who tried to use her body to get some information and failed miserably.

I open my mouth and, honestly, I don’t know what I was planning to say, but he lays a silencing finger across my lips.

‘Don’t lie, baby,’ he advises softly.

I shake my head. I can feel the tears gathering at the backs of my eyes. I blink hard and fast. He takes his hand away.

‘Did you tell them about the sixteenth?’

Dismay curves my spine. I close my eyes and nod.

I hear him sigh softly.

I open my eyes and he is looking at me with an expression so sad that I want to press my body against his and hold him, but I can’t. I couldn’t bear it if he pushed me away. God! It had seemed so real only a moment ago and yet it was all only a mirage. I feel my body trembling.

‘When did you find out?’ My voice is just a string.

‘Maybe I always knew. I just didn’t want to believe it.’

‘How?’ A part of me wants to know where I went wrong.

One corner of his lips twists. ‘Everything about you was off. You were too clean to be a runaway. And a runaway who has never let a man come inside her before? And there is one more thing that you might want to reconsider before you go back to being an undercover asset. You talk in your sleep.’

‘I do?’ I say hoarsely.

‘That time when you were attacked you said, “Get Crystal Jake.” I knew then for sure. No one calls me that anymore.’

‘So you admit dealing in drugs?’

He frowns. ‘How have I just admitted to dealing in drugs?’

‘Crystal Jake because you were selling crystal meth.’

‘Is that what they told you?’ He grasped his crystal chain and tugged hard at it. It broke, sending sparkling crystals flying across the room, hitting the floor. With his other hand he took my hand, opened my palm, put in what was left in his fist and closed my hand. ‘That is why I was called Crystal Jake. I have never sold hard drugs.’

My gaze moves from my closed fist up to his eyes. I don’t know whether to believe him, but he has never lied to me, and it is true that the whole time I have been with him I have not seen any evidence of drug usage or dealing either at Eden or on a personal level.

I stare at him as I have never seen him before. As the man I am in love with. All this while I have been pretending—to him and to myself—that I’m not. But I love him. I love this gangster who seems more honest and sincere than a priest. Other than the bed covered in used money I have no evidence that he is a gangster anyway.

He walks away from me and begins to dress. I stand at the glass, naked and frozen, all kinds of thoughts churning through my mind. He comes back fully dressed and looks at me. There is contempt in his eyes.

‘Why did you marry me if you knew?’

‘So that no one will be able to force you to testify against me. If you do, it will be because you want to.’

My mouth drops open. For some reason his answer is painful on a shocking level. ‘How could you marry me for that reason?’

‘How could you show me your naked body and keep your heart covered? Tell them the next time they want another swipe at me it might be an idea not to send such a rookie.’ He looks at me with hard, derisive eyes. ‘Enjoy your wedding night, Mrs. Eden.’





Oh

The damage is done

So I guess I be leavin’

—Cry me a River, Justin Timberlake





TWENTY


For a long time I stand staring at the closed door. A part of me is horrified, but a part of me that I have hidden for so long is strangely elated that the lie is finally out in the open. I don’t have to pretend anymore. Nude, I walk to the fully stocked bar. I open a bottle of whiskey and drink it straight from the bottle. It glugs down my throat, burning all the way down. I cough and pat my chest. The sound is loud in the empty suite.

Tears press against my eyelids. I feel alone, helpless, and so incredibly lost. I have failed miserably. And I have only myself to blame. I pick up the cheongsam from the floor, and carefully hang it in the closet. It is my wedding dress. I let my fingers skim the silky material one last time. The chambermaid will find it. It will be a nice treat for her. Then I go into the bathroom and, avoiding my reflection, dress in my own clothes.

Then I sit on the bed and wait for him. I am convinced he will come back through the door. He could not have just walked out on me. But an hour later I know he is not coming back. Reality hits. The truth is like switching on a light. All this time I had thought my eyes were accustomed to the dark. I had made out shapes from the shadows and guessed their names.


But it was a lie.

He knew I was an undercover cop the whole time and he was only pretending. Everything we had was a lie. Maybe the lust was real, but what is lust but dust without love? All that time he knew. I think of all the people and the planning that must have gone into hiring The Blue Man Group, the lavish wedding. He had lost all that money on purpose. To keep the invisible balance ledger between him and the casino straight.

The breath comes out of me in a rush. Now I understand why he asked for this particular suite. The Provocateur suite.