Page 82 of Filthy Little Lies

He stares at me. His face is flushed, and his pupils are blown wide.

“You’re the guy Savvy’s working for, right?” The corner of his mouth tilts. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re that guy. I remember she said your name. Valentine.”

“Valenti,” I snap. “Tell me about the cash, Tony. Did you get a loan from Vincent Ricci?”

“So what if I did.” He jerks his shoulder back and nearly knocks himself and the chair to the floor.

“Why don’t you let me have a minute with him. I’ll find out what you need to know,” Lucian offers. He’s leaning against the wall, playing with his brass knuckles.

“Savvy won’t let you hurt me,” Tony says with too much confidence.

“Yeah?” Lucian laughs. “You think your little sister is going to save your sorry ass?”

“Lucian.” I shoot him a glare over my shoulder.

He frowns, but shrugs and goes back to twirling his knuckles around his middle finger.

“Did you take a loan?” I fist Tony’s hair, dragging his eyes back to me. “Did you?”

“No. All right? I didn’t take a fucking loan.” He tries to tear free of my grip but only manages to pull his own hair.

“If you didn’t get the cash from Ricci, where’d you get it?”

He stares at me a long minute, deliberating on whether to tell the truth or trying to remember what planet he’s on. It’s hard to tell with so many drugs in his system.

A pounding on the doors interrupts his thought process, and he blinks away whatever he was going to say.

Lucian opens the door enough to have a conversation with whoever is on the other side. When he finishes, he’s carrying a black cloth bag with him and a sharp frown.

“The cash is fake.” He reaches into the drawstring bag and pulls out several bills, handing them to me. “Roberto had it brought over from the club. He said it’s good work, but the ribbon is one shade off.”

Savvy called this. A wash, not a loan. I told myself I’d run it down and let it slide instead, chalking Tony up as a non-threat.

He points out the flaw that caught Roberto’s attention. My muscles tighten.

“Where did you get this fucking cash?” I shove the bills into his face.

He smiles. “You already know.”

I fist his shirt, nearly lifting him from the chair. “She doesn’t do cash. She doesn’t have the equipment. Don’t fucking lie to me. Where did you get this?”

He snorts. “Believe what you want.”

She swore she wouldn’t help him. She vowed to only work for me, no side gigs.

It wouldn’t be the first time she lied, but my gut tells me she didn’t. She had nothing to do with what Tony tried to pull tonight.

But that doesn’t keep her out of danger. Tony went to Ricci looking for cash, and now he has fistfuls of counterfeit bills. Ricci wants what he can’t have, and he’s not above trying to take Savvy as a way to use her against me.

“Savvy’s the best at what she does,” he continues.

“Hey, Gabriel,” Lucian interrupts.

“Did you tell Ricci that? Did you say her name to him?” He’ll use any excuse to go after what’s mine. Protecting her is the only thing that matters right now. Forged paystubs, counterfeit money, I don’t give a fuck about any of that. Only keeping her from harm.

“She’d do anything for me,” Tony says, his words starting to run into each other. “Savvy would steal from rich assholes like you.”

“Gabriel—”