Betraying Beauty (Sons of Lucifer MC): Vegas Titans Series (8 page)

Now I do roll my eyes. “Come on, Dominic.”

He sighs, as he glares at me through a knitted brow. “No,
you come on, Harper. Tell me your price for your generous offer to keep your
mouth shut, and I’ll think about whether or not I can afford you.”

Angry heat rushes to my cheeks, but I forcibly will myself
to remain calm. River is blinking at me with confused, young, wounded eyes. I
see so much hurt in her, and yet so much hope—just like Dominic used to be. It damn
near breaks my heart. Somehow, I don’t want to let her down.

Or Dominic.

“I just want to get us out of this mess, Dominic. Let’s make
a deal.” I sweep my arm out, indicating the apocalyptic landscape of his ruined
business. “You’re at rock bottom here. Listen: River has testimony that proves
that you are the victim of a criminal act, which would entitle you to insurance
money as well as probably a sizable settlement. We can legitimately prove this
Colt person is a murderer and a felon. Let the system work for you for a
change.”

“That’s all very interesting,” Dominic says through gritted
teeth. “How does it apply to you and me?”

I straighten to my fullest height and look him dead in the
eyes. “I happen to be a damn good lawyer. Let me take the case. In exchange,
you let me go free. That’s it. We both get our freedom.”

For a few seconds, both Dominic and River stare at me as if
I’ve suddenly started speaking Chinese.

“What?” I say. “Come on, it’s so simple. I’m telling you, Dominic,
I can get you a shit ton of money to rebuild and move forward with your
business, and I can make Colt disappear without killing anybody or burning
anything down or kidnapping. A novel concept for you, I’m sure—but it’s true. I
can do it. I can make this happen. Will you let me?”

I stick my hand out to seal the deal, but Dominic ignores
it. He hasn’t moved, and the intensity of his stormy green eyes is raising
goosebumps on my arms. River is watching us silently.

“The only way Colt will disappear is if you use silver
bullets,” Dominic grunts. “This isn’t possible. There’s no way you can just
wave some magic wand and make the puppet masters behind the Depraved Club go
away.”

“Dominic,” I groan, exasperated. “Let me take the case.
Trust me, I can do this.”

“I don’t trust you,” he says bluntly. “How do I know you’d
actually go through with the case if I let you go? How do I know you wouldn’t
turn me in?”

“Well I don’t trust you either,” I retort. “How do I know
you’d really let me go if I take the case for you? Guess we’re even.” He stares
at my hand, still outstretched. “This seems to be the only way out of this
situation, as far as I can tell. Or do you really intend to drag me around on
the back of your motorcycle for the rest of our lives?”

He gives me the ghost of a smile. “Beats the subway, don’t
it?”

A strange nervousness fills my stomach. Oh god, what if he
had
planned on dragging me around for the rest of our lives? What if this really is
my only way out?

And what if finding a way out of this crazy situation means
I’ll be out of Dominic’s life again, this time forever?

Suddenly I’m shaking. He starts to reach for my hand just as
I start to retract it, but River suddenly grabs both of us by our wrists,
jarring me out of my dizzy thoughts.

“Wait,” she says, turning conspiratorially to Dominic. “This
concerns me too, if I’m going to be the star witness. Make her stay with us
until the case is finished, Dominic. We’ll have a lot of work to do together,
and you’ll have to protect us and make sure she doesn’t pull anything weird
with Colt or anything. Then let her go if we win. Only if we win. Not until we
win.”

Dominic raises his eyebrows, their arches impossibly
devilish and dangerous, and grins at me.

“She drives a hard bargain,” I murmur.

Dominic nods. “I taught her everything she knows.”

“So it’s a deal then, right?” River asks, studying us.
“Until we win?”

Sighing, I shrug. “Ok. I’m 100% confident that we will win,
but you’ve got to let me work my way. Use my office. Sleep. Shower like a
human. Maybe even change my damn clothes. If you’re gonna be there with me the
whole time, you’ve got to cooperate and behave and let me do my job.”

Dominic inclines his head, a parody of an old fashioned
gentleman. “Whatever you say. I’ll let you take the case, Harper, and then I’ll
let you go.
If
we win.”

“Great!” River chirps. “It’s a deal!”

With sudden teenage glee, River jams my hand and Dominic’s
hand together, wrapping hers over our tangled fingers. The shock of Dominic’s
skin on mine makes fire rip up over my arms and down to my toes. His skin, my
skin—I wish I could touch more of him. He’s so tantalizing close, but so, so
far away.

“Let’s get out of here,” River says with a yawn. “This place
is depressing. Grindhouse must be close now, yeah?”

She skips away, leaving Dominic and me standing together in
the wreckage, hands clasped. My heartbeat seems to be in my mouth, it’s
pounding so hard. Somehow I can’t let go of his hand or look away from his
eyes. He’s staring at me, hard. Like I’m naked.

“Why are you doing this Harper?” He whispers, his lips
moving softly. “Why are you suddenly acting like you’re on my side?”

“I told you,” I said. “I want to get us both out of this
mess.”

“You mean you,” he says. “You want to get you out of this
mess.”

“That too.”

He jerks on my hand, making me stumble forward until I’m
smack up against his chest, off-balance. I can feel the hard muscles of his
abdomen and chest holding me steady like a wall, his breath warm against my
face in the morning chill. Warmth and nervousness curl inexplicably in my belly
and between my legs. His eyes on me are so unflinching, so hard to read.

Those eyes. God, they’re beautiful. I could stare into his
eyes forever.

No, Harper. Stop. Forget the past. Forget your desire.

My eyes flicker up to his lips, remembering what they felt
like on mine, and suddenly it’s hard to breathe.

What if he kissed me now? Would it be like it used to way
back when he loved me and didn’t know who I was, or would it be the same
strange, quick torrent of confusion as last night—the cold, controlled biker
king proving a point?

Or was that more than just a kiss for him, too?

“You think you can buy everything don’t you?” Dominic says,
snapping me back to the present. His voice is gruff. “That’s what you’re trying
to do now, isn’t it—buy me off, buy your life back.”

Everything he says hurts. The way he looks at me hurts.

“I don’t want to fight with you Dominic,” I groan. “Please,
let’s talk about this later. I’ve never been this tired in my whole life. I
just want to sleep.”

“This isn’t going to be some clean corporate lawsuit,” he
says, relentless. “Do I need to remind you what you saw at the Depraved Club,
before my boys got there? This guy you’re taking on ran the place. The people
that pay him run a thousand other places just like it. They’re cold as ice and
lethal as their pet cobras. Human life is nothing to them—just a tab in their
profit margins. You call me a murderer, but I’m nothing compared to the people
that you’ll be exposing yourself to.”

The subtext of what he’s just said sinks in, giving me a
breath of hope. “Are you actually worried about me?”

His face sets stubbornly. “I’m watching you,” he growls
defensively. “You need to take this seriously, ok? I need you to understand
what’s at stake. This is life or death. Don’t think you can play them, or play
me. You won’t get away with it this time.”

“What?” I blink, stunned. “I’ve never played you in my life Dominic
Throne, and I’ve never been more serious than right now. If it’s all so
dangerous then it sounds like we’ve really got to work together here. We’re
going to have to find a way to be ok with that, maybe even trust each other.
We’ve got enough enemies on the outside without us tearing each other down all
the time.”

“You’re in my world now,” he grunts. “There’s no mercy for
stupid. You fuck this up or double-cross me, we could both end up dead. So
don’t fuck up.”

My eyes fill with irritated tears. “I could never
double-cross you Dominic. Fucking up is another story, I can’t say I’d never
fuck up because that’s not something anyone can ever promise, but I’d never
betray you.”

“Funny. Seems to me you already have.”

I realize he is talking about the past: that summer, my
brother’s beating and death threat, leaving without a goodbye. My heart aches,
as if my chest is suddenly the wrong size to contain all the regrets and fears inside.
This is dangerous ground, and the stir of old feelings is paralyzing. He’s
standing so painfully close, and yet he’s so goddamn unreachable.

Careful, Harper…tread softly…

Obviously, he hates me. And that is obviously irreversible
in his book.

Now I can’t stop the tears from tumbling down my cheeks.

“Dominic, I already told you, my brother was going to kill
you! Please believe me, I thought it was the only way to stop him, to protect
you from him, to save your fucking life. I never wanted to leave you. Leaving
you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. God, how could you not know that I
loved you? I loved you so much I was willing to ruin my own life and give up my
own happiness and walk away if that’s what it took to keep you safe. That’s all
I could think about in that moment—keeping you alive, out there somewhere—even
if I never got see you again, I just needed to know you were ok. Don’t you know
I’ve thought about it every day since then, wondering if there had been another
way? Why can’t you understand that?”

It’s not until I pause for breath that I realize the
enormity of what I’ve just said. It’s the first time I’ve ever told him—or
anyone—that I loved him. The words hang in the air like a scent. He stares down
at me for what feels like an eternity, until the roar of a motorcycle engine
nearby tears through the fragile moment.

“That’ll be Grindhouse,” Dominic says, abruptly stepping
away and pulling my hand like a leash. “Let’s go get you your precious sleep.”

Chapter Nine

Harper

The next few weeks are a blur of paperwork, phone calls,
meetings, and research as I dive headfirst into hardball lawyer mode. It makes
it easier not to think or feel about personal things, as does the fact that I
haven’t actually talked to Dominic about anything other than The Tunders, Colt,
and the Depraved Club since I started working on the case. Which is probably a
good thing. Now I can bury myself in my comfort zone: work.

Though Dominic’s been true to our agreement and has let me
use my real office half the time, I’ve mostly camped out in a small meeting
room at the Sons of Lucifer Clubhouse. It’s like being inside a medieval fortress,
except instead of armor everyone’s wearing leather and it smells like tequila
all the time. Also, people are usually having sex in the hallway or in the main
bar area. But hey, that probably happened in medieval fortresses too.

Dominic says it’s safer for me to work out of the clubhouse,
but I know it’s probably all really just to keep an eye on me. The Sons of
Lucifer are sticking to me like white on rice, which is ok, because it means
that no one really messes with me. I have bodyguards all the time. And when I
do have to go in to the office, I have my own personal outlaw motorcade.

Dominic’s also made sure I have a guard even inside the clubhouse,
usually a familiar biker like Dirtbeard or Charlie Foxtrot. They sit morosely
in the corner with a newspaper or stream TV shows on their smart-phones or
sometimes accidentally doze off while I wade through the crazy frantic
discovery phase. I know they hate babysitting me, and they know I hate the way
the place smells. We’ve reached a mutual agreement to just not talk about it,
and so my working hours pass by in a productive silence. Then I’m escorted to a
cell-like room with a bunk bed and locked in with River and another guard for
the night. It’s not exactly homey, but the case is so time-consuming I’ve
barely noticed.

My first presentation before the grand jury is in two days,
and I want to make sure I have all my ducks in a row to prove we have a
legitimate case to indict Colt for a full trial. Dirtbeard is guarding me in
the windowless back office, which was probably supposed to be a closet. His
nose and dirty beard are obscured by an issue of Consumer Report, and today we
didn’t even bother to say hi to each other: a nod sufficed.

I’m seated at the desk in a wobbly swivel-chair,
cross-referencing River’s deposition and some subpoenaed tax documents of the
domestic division of Leviathan Corporation, connecting the dots between Colt’s
criminal activity and his cash-flow, when there’s a soft rap on the door. It’s
the right combination of taps: the signal from Dominic.

Dirtbeard lets the boss in and leaves us alone together. Dominic
has to duck his head a little to get through the doorframe, and the realization
smacks me for the umpteenth time that he is one tall, dark and handsome hunk of
testosterone. But since that is not what I am allowing myself to think about
today, I quickly avert my eyes to the exciting, sexy, thrilling tax documents
I’m studying.

Fuck my life.

Dominic has other plans for my attention, though. Once
inside the tiny office, he shuts the door behind him, folds his arms and stares
down at me like a distant, displeased god. And then he waits. Staring at me. Staring
at me hard.

I can feel his eyes boring through me, traveling over every
part of my body, and in response a flood of heat rushes into my cheeks. His
gaze is like a caress, heavy and tangible. I can feel it through my clothes,
and instinctively curl my shoulders for protection against the strange
sensations he’s causing.

“Well?” Dominic grunts.

Finally I look up, determined not to let him fluster me.
“Well what?”

His jaw clenches. “Well, how’s it going today?”

I lean back in my chair, lace my fingers together, staring
up at him from behind my desk like a stern school principle. “Oh, you know, typical
Wednesday for me really; still a hostage of a biker gang that is, ironically, trying
to take down an international crime syndicate. I haven’t seen the sun in
forty-eight hours and could really use either another change of clothes or a
long stint in the witness protection program, whatever is easier for you to get
me. No pressure. Run-of-the-mill stuff. I’d comment on the weather we’re having,
but I don’t know what the hell it’s like because, again, still a hostage.
Typical Wednesday.”

He stares at me evenly, unmoved. “With such a razor wit, I’m
sure you were the top of your class and the most popular girl, but you know
damn well I wasn’t going for small talk. I mean have you got an update on the
case for me, or do I need to withhold your bread and water ration and have you
flogged in the dungeon until you behave yourself?”

I lean forward. “You totally have a dungeon, don’t you?
You’re sick.”

His eyebrows lift higher. “Wanna find out about my dungeon,
or wanna give me an update?”

“An update?” I ask. “An update. Hmm. Oh, an update, you
mean, like a game-changing, paradigm-shifting breakthrough that could be accomplished
by the greatest lawyer in the country, and only the greatest lawyer in the
country, and none other than the greatest lawyer in the country? That kind of
update?”

He rolls his eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake Harper, I surrender.
You win the banter portion of the evening. So what’s up with the case? You got anything
new today or not?”

In spite of his frosty tone, I beam up at him. “You’re not
gonna believe this, Dominic,” I gush, unable to help myself. “But it doesn’t
matter if you do or don’t, because belief doesn’t actually change reality does
it? So believe it or don’t believe it, but the fact remains that my gangly,
socially awkward assistant Rodney actually may have outsmarted Leviathan
Corporation. And I am proud as peaches.”

“Come again?”

I take a deep, excited breath. “We were able to hustle
through a subpoena for the financial records of a sketchy, buried division of Leviathan
Corporation labeled New Ventures, and get this: I can link the exact amounts
and exact dates of seven months of payments directly to Colt’s ‘holding’
company, which was his front for the Depraved Club. And I can prove that some
of that money was incentive for his attack on The Thunders and your half-way
house.”

“Which is good?”

“For us? Amazing. For them? Not so much. Oooh—we also have a
memo from Leviathan Corp’s Executive Vice President on November 9
^th
,
ordering a preemptive crippling of competition of local business The Thunders.
On top of that, we’ve got the evidence found in Colt’s home, which included
cash exactly equaling the most recent payment from Leviathan Corp in crisp new
bills.”
            Dominic is staring at me blankly. “So, in regular-person, non-confusing
language, what does that mean?”
            “I’ve got ‘em by the balls.”

Dominic winces. “Not an image I needed to think about.”

Ignoring him, I run my fingers over the papers in front of
me for emphasis. “This is definitive proof that Colt was on Leviathan Corp’s
payroll, and that Leviathan Corp was behind the strike on your place. God,
these bastards were so cocky they barely even tried to cover their own paper
trail and the language is clear enough to incriminate them in conspiracy,
murder, and destruction of property. Not just Colt—but several prominent,
high-ranking Leviathan Corp officials. Once Colt’s lawyer sees what I am seeing—and
he is probably looking at it right now—they’re gonna scramble to settle out of
court.”

Dominic nods comprehendingly. “Guess they wouldn’t want this
stuff paraded around a courtroom, leaked to the media.”

“Exactly. If we take this before a grand jury, which I think
we should, then it’s not just Humpty Dumpty that’s tumbling down if you know
what I mean.”

Dominic’s eyes flicker with something like hope, or doubt. “You
mean you think this evidence could actually take down the whole Depraved Club
wing of Leviathan Corp?”

My smile grows. “If we go to trial and manage to keep your
character spotless? Yes. So I need you to tell me, as my client, what you want
to do: consider an offer to settle out of court, or move forward with the grand
jury?”

“So I’m choosing between money or justice.”

“That’s one way to look at it.”

“Has Colt’s lawyer actually made an offer?”

“Not yet.” As if on cue, my work blackberry buzzes. I glance
at it, then smile more broadly. “Colt’s lawyer. Huh. Wonder what this could possibly
be about?” I flash Dominic a smile as I reach for the phone. “Hello Michaela,”
I chirp into the receiver, “How are you this fine day? Oh just peachy, thanks. Yes,
nose to the grindstone as always. What can I do for you?”

As I listen to my colleague making the juiciest offer I’ve
ever heard, I intentionally let my smile fade until my face is serious and drop
my voice to a husky timbre. “Really, is that so?” It’s hard not to laugh as the
storm clouds gather in Dominic’s eyes at my changed expression. “I see.”

“What is it?” he hisses, eyes bulging.

“Shh!” I wave him off and swivel my chair away, pretending
to be absorbed in my phone call. “Please continue, Michaela. I’m listening.”

Dominic chases me around the desk, crouching down to my
level and gesturing urgently. “Is it good or bad?”

I cover the receiver with my fingers to whisper-scold Dominic.
“Shh! Honestly! How about you wait a hot second and let me find out?”
Uncovering the receiver, I slip back into my best professional negotiating
voice and laugh. “Michaela, I fully understand your perspective and how
arbitration would benefit your client, but I’m not sure that my client is
equally motivated to avoid court.”

Cocking an eyebrow at Dominic in question, I receive only a
shrug to go on. Rolling my eyes, I decide to bide my time, and let Michaela
babble frantically for a moment.

“I’m not sure it’s an issue of the amount of the settlement
money, Michaela,” I say with feigned reluctance. “And I’m not sure whether my
client will consider any sum of money a just transaction for the loss of life,
property, and safety as a result of the crimes committed by your client. But
tell you what: give me twenty-four hours to discuss your offer with my client,
and we’ll be in touch. Okay. Goodbye.”

By the time I hang up, Dominic’s eyes are bulging like a
kid’s. He’s leaning over me, his arms framing me and resting on the desk, and
his body is like a panther’s poised to strike. Even his voice sounds like a
lethal purr. “What did she say?”

Carefully schooling my face to remain stony, I shake my head
and look up at him. “She made a serious, serious…”

He blanches. “…Serious…?”

“Offer!” Now I can’t hide my smile anymore and leap out of
the chair, crushing him in an impulsive hug without even thinking. “Dominic,
they’re terrified! Michaela Willoughby of Willoughby, Laughton and Green never
makes offers. And she just offered us three hundred million dollars to settle
outside of trial.”

Dominic blinks. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah.”

“Three
hundred
million?” he repeats, stunned. “Not
just three million? You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Three hundred million dollars, offered to me? As in, I could
take that money. That money would be mine—the Sons’, too, obviously, but mine.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

Dominic’s pacing, working up to a boil. “Or I could not take
the money, go to court, and bury Colt and damage the entire Depraved Club
permanently? My choice?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So…this is a fucking good thing. This is a fucking big
break. This is fucking...”

“Yeah!”

Now, I’ve had big victories before, and we’re a long way
from done, but this tops any settlement or any case I’ve ever worked on before
and I can no longer contain my glee. I’m actually jumping up and down against Dominic
like a hyper cheerleader.

“Dominic, this is it. We’re standing right on the edge of
what could be the most powerful, important moment in our lives. Whatever we do
next will have epic repercussions, but whatever we do, we’re going to win.”

After two seconds of shock, Dominic’s body springs awake.
His hands catch around my waist and suddenly he’s lifted me in the air,
spinning in a circle, and we’re both whooping and laughing like morons. When I
land back on earth, we’re both breathless and his hands linger on my waist. The
seconds tick by as our laughing gradually calms to a happy, taut silence, but
my pulse just doesn’t seem to want to return to normal.

“So,” I stammer, trying to pull back and regain control of
the moment. “What do you think you want to do? I’ll have to respond to
Michaela’s offer either way. To settle, or not to settle?”

Dominic is staring down at me, his eyes intense, but a smile
plays over his lips. “Let me think about it,” he murmurs. “But first, we have
to celebrate.”