“So, not a good thing?”
“I feel like if I knew who was pulling the strings on this hit or kidnapping plan or whatever I could do something. I don’t want to be a sitting duck and it’s not like I’m not capable and don’t have connections. You keep reminding me of that.”
“I do, don’t I?” Of course I do. I shake my head to myself.
“And you know, don’t you? Dad is close to Max, knew he could temporarily own Kon, but you ... he trusts you.”
Which is dangerous as hell.
“If you let on that you know, he’ll know I told you.”
She nods. When I stroke her back, I feel something there. Juliana rolls, wanting to spoon and then I notice the scars. “Babe?”
“Don’t ask.”
I kiss one. “Will you kick me out of bed if I do?”
She trembles. “I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
“A hellcat,” I say again.
She nods.
I take a slow breath. “Mr. Alister. Not as bad as the Volkovs in terms of enemies, but a powerful man with an old money family.”
“Shit,” She whispers.
“Yeah, it’s not good. He feels like he’s owed the money, but your father didn’t deny him for no reason. I ...” I fucking advised him not to. Because it was obviously arson and based on the employees and the stories they told ... I knew it was an inside job. They wanted the money to get out of a failing business. “He has his reasons. They’re good.”
She thinks about that for a long time. It’s important to me that she believes me because I have a feeling she’s going to dig and she’ll find out it was my recommendation. Juliana sighs.
“I believe you. You’ve always been straight with me.”
“Pay up,” I whisper in her ear. “Or I’ll be forced to use a pillow.”
She pulls my hand off her back and around her. “Remember the whip that jockey’s son gave me?”
“Of course.”
“I loved it. I felt like I earned it somehow. It was my favorite gift right away, but ... I wasn’t supposed to be talking to someone like that. And I’d gotten my very expensive dress all dirty.”
Her voice trembles and I kiss over her shoulder. “It’s okay not to tell me the whole story.”
“It’s not my favorite gift anymore. Daddy made sure of that. And he blamed Mom for letting it all happen, so she ... she had to watch.”
“Fuck.” I close my eyes as I squeeze her against me. “I shouldn’t have walked away.”
“We were kids.” She pats my hand and clears her throat. “You didn’t know and it’s better that you didn’t. Don’t you dare pity me.”
“I’m angry for you.”
“Same shit.”
“Not at all.” I kiss her neck again.
When the silence drags, I know she wants to move on. I groan. “Want Indian food? I’m starving.”
“That sounds great.”