Page 51 of Claimed By the Ruthless King

“Not a compliment.” I sit back into the desk. “Where were you when the car approached?”

Ophelia looks at me pensively. “Queens.”

“Around self-storage units with orange doors?”

Ophelia looks at me for a moment, her eyebrows knitting together. “Are you the one who bought my mother’s unit? You’re the private owner?”

“Yes,” I say. “Lenny Foster was an independent contractor working for me. I hired him to investigate the unit after hearing bits and pieces from someone about the Crows. One of my enforcers overheard them about the compound, how there was evidence stored in one of the units. To avoid anyone else from purchasing the unit, I bought it off the market myself, hoping to burn the evidence before people could learn the truth. But someone’s going out of their way to make this very difficult for me.”

“Wait.” Ophelia blinks. “We need to go back a few steps. Did you just say enforcer?”

“I’ll fill in the blanks later.”

“Like you’re going to give me a full rundown on what it is you do after twilight?”

“My work is complicated,” I say, staring into her blue sapphire eyes.

“Who else knows about the Crows, besides the journalist?”

“My Aunt Viv.”

I scratch my head, the name not ringing any bells.

“Wait,” says Ophelia. “You think I’m the one who is making this difficult for you?”

“Others seem to think so.”

“Others?”

You’ll be digging your fucking grave soon, Salvatore.

“Lenny Foster was attacked before he could open up the unit and take care of the evidence,” I explain, a heavy feeling tugging at my heart. Ophelia could have been killed. “What the fuck were you doing in Queens? You could have lost your life.”

“Investigating the Crows, which you seem to be a part of.”

“Was,” I correct. “Past tense.”

“You’re lying to me,” says Ophelia, a forlorn expression taking over her face.

Lying to this woman is the last fucking thing I would ever dream of doing. Technically, I’m not lying, just withholding information as to who I really am.

I’m sure she will join the pieces herself and figure out who I am… if she’s willing to accept the truth.

A lot of people want to know the truth, until they actually learn it.

And unfortunately, once your eyes have been opened, you cannot close them the same ever again.

“I would never lie to you, Ophelia.”

“Then tell me, who are you?”

“Telling you who I am not would be easier.” I stare deep into her eyes. “I’m many things, but I have never been a good person.”

Ophelia takes stock of my face, reading my features, trying to figure me out.

I rake a hand through my hair, frustrated by the situation. Ophelia’s already way out of her depth.

Someone else is sneaking around, uncovering Crow evidence, trying to rebuild the organization, and Ophelia is making this worse. The more she digs, the more of a trail she leaves behind.