Page 25 of Liberated By Sin

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Page 25 of Liberated By Sin

“Good. And I hope I didn’t overstep by coming by. I just wanted to give my thanks and apologize in case I came off like a jerk.”

Another fake smile. “You’re fine.”

“I’ll see you around then.”

With a nod of his chin, Detective Braga was gone. I closed the door, leaning against it as Phoenix nudged my legs. She had this way of sensing my distress. Maybe it was her way of looking out for me, repaying me for having saved her life. I bent down and cradled her little face.

“You’re thinking what I’m thinking, huh? A homicide detective as a neighbor. We’re fucked.”

12

AmaraCarvalho.

I flipped through her file for the tenth time, again searching for a possible piece of information I might have overlooked. But nothing out of the ordinary jumped out. And maybe that was precisely the problem. Her past employment and places of residency were too damn cookie-cutter, as if someone had chosen the most generic shit to cut and paste together. My years of reading people told me this woman held a vault of secrets. Her eyes, those fucking incredible eyes, were layered with stories and experiences I craved to uncover.

There was something strangely different about her. The women in this industry didn’t often reject men in positions of power and wealth. Most coveted even the most minute scraps of attention, with the hopes they’d be lifted from a lifestyle usually forced on them by life’s circumstances or the absence of choice. But while the other dancers vied to introduce themselves, Amara couldn’t have been more disinterested.

I leaned back in my chair, scoffing around my cigaras I watched the car lot’s live feed. Amara was a different breed. In the face of death, she remained uncharacteristically calm and fearless. Nonchalant, even.

Secrets.

And just like that, this woman—this stranger—had piqued my absolute interest.

Vibrations from a drawer inside my desk shook me from my thoughts. I smiled when Silas’s name lit up my screen.

“Brother, what kind of shit do you need me to bail you out of now?”

We shared a laugh, remembering old times. While I was glad he had settled down and found his place in the world and someone special to share it with, I couldn’t help but feel the nostalgia tightening my chest. We’d been close friends for nearly two decades. My family and I had worked alongside Hades. And when the organization turned its back on Silas, my loyalty never wavered. He was my brother, and I’d never begrudge his happiness, but I did miss the bastard.

“Leni and I landed in Philly a few hours ago. She’s already off running errands with Maksim, so I thought I’d check in. I saw your message about staying in Miami, and I wanted to ensure you hadn’t suffered a head injury.”

I was still getting used to the idea of Silas as a father figure. But from what I knew, he and Leni had fallen into their roles as caretakers for the orphaned teenager.

Setting down the cigar, I lost myself in billows of smoke as I tried to conjure an excuse that didn’t make me sound like I’d lost my sanity. However, if anyone understood how bewitching the right woman could be, it was Silas.

“A business venture, Si. I came here convinced of one decision and stayed once I saw its potential. Illusion is just off the marina, with the yacht club out back, the beach, an unrivaled view. Like a precious gem among stones.”

Silas cleared his throat. “Okay…that sounds like you’re saying a lot without saying much.”

We’d never felt the need to keep secrets; now would have been nodifferent. But was there even anything to tell?

Not yet.

Several minutes later, I caught the image of a familiar black car pulling onto the property.

“Si, it was great to hear from you, but I’ve got to run. Give my regards to Leni and that boy of yours. Hope he’s still doing well. And call whenever you need me to save your ass again.”

His barking laughter filtered through my speaker before he said his goodbyes and ended the call.

I hadn’t taken my eyes off the parked sedan since its arrival five minutes prior. She’d yet to emerge, and I wondered what was keeping her. Yet no sooner had the thought crossed my mind than the driver-side door pushed open, and a wave of long brown curls danced in the breeze from the car. I couldn’t help envisioning my fist tangled in that hair and my name, a whispered moan on her lips.

My feet carried me to the door before I realized I was even moving.

“Good evening, Mr. Leone,” a woman’s voice called from an adjacent hallway. I bid her a nod, my eyes fixed on the back door, where Amara was only seconds from breaching. “Can I get you anything to drink?” Again, the same voice. Whirling around, I found myself far too close to a young brunette in heels almost as tall as one of her calves, and even then, she barely made it to my shoulders. Her height wasn’t the problem; it was the flushed cheeks and doe eyes belonging to a girl who seemed to be a couple of years much too young to work here.

She flashed a flirtatious smile and moved in closer. “Is that…a yes?”

“How old are you?”




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