Page 20 of Vicious Betrayal

"But…" I prompt.

"He's married." She shrugs. "I would point you at him, but he married an Italian mafia princess. Elena. We have it on good authority that he's faithful to his wife, painfully so, which is an anomaly among these kinds of men. We researched that first, since making you his mistress would have been the best option. But he's not the kind of man who will step outside his marriage." She pauses. "And he had an infiltrator recently from another family, who he had to deal with. An undercover cop working within his organization is something he's primed to recognize right now. But Cormac, it seems, is vulnerable to a particular sort of pressure."

"Because he can give you what you need?"

"Cormac Murphy is Declan's senior right-hand. He's been with the organization for roughly eleven to twelve years, longer than almost anyone else. He was with Lachlan Gallagher from the start of Gallagher's rise to power, and he stuck with Declan after because he's loyal. He handles security, but he also handles considerably more than that—operations, vetting, things that connect the legitimate businesses to the criminal side. If Declan trusts anyone with where the records are kept, it's Cormac." She meets my eyes. "And you've already gotten further with him in one night than we've managed in three years of trying. He doesn't typically take women home, from what we've seen. He let you into his space because he wanted you that badly. So regardless of what he might have told you the morning after, he'll do it again."

Because he wants me. He trusts me, at least a little. And I'm going to betray that.

I swallow hard. "What exactly am I looking for?"

"Anything documenting the connection between the legitimate businesses and criminal transactions. Ledgers, emails, physical documents, shipping manifests, anything stored on devices you can access. It doesn't have to be physical copies; if you find digital ones, and you don't have to take the physical copies with you. It's best if you don't, actually—it gives us time to move without anyone realizing something is missing. You photograph what you find, you send it to the number on that phone, and we handle the rest." She closes the folder and slides it to one side. "You're not being asked to do anything that puts you in direct physical danger."

I think about what it means to be in a house with a man like Cormac Murphy, and to be looking for evidence that will send him to prison. Reyes and I have different definitions of physical danger, I think.

But I don't say that. I look out the back window of the dining room, at the carefully manicured yard. Nothing about my surroundings looks like my life has been turned upside down.

I look at Reyes and her impassive expression. It's clear that I have no way out of this. No way but forward.

"Alright," I say. "Tell me exactly what I'm looking for."

—

I spend the rest of the day going over the information Reyes gave me. I don't want to even think about it, but I have to. If I'm going to do this, then I want to do it as quickly as possible. I'm going to have to fuck a man I want to go to bed with in order to trick and betray him, and I feel sick over it. But since I have no choice, I want to do it as quickly as possible. I'll get them what they need and get my family clear, and then maybe I can get rid of this churning in my gut that makes me feel like I'm going to throw up every second.

All my fantasies about Cormac have vanished. Now when I think of him, that sick feeling intensifies. I remember his scars, and I wonder if he'll get new ones in prison. I remember him looking at me like I was this unexpected thing that came into his life that he couldn't afford to keep, and I realize he was more right than he knows. He can't afford me, because I'm going to cost him everything.

So I just think about what my angle is, how I'm going to get him to unmake his decision to push me out of his life. I'm very aware of my effect on men, but Cormac isn't a typical man. It was hard enough to get through his defenses the first time. Now he'll have his walls up and be ready for my tricks, my flirtations, and I'm really not sure how I'm going to manipulate him into doing this again.

But I have to figure it out. I have no choice.

So, that evening, I put on a tight red dress that barely covers the tops of my thighs and pushes my small breasts up, leave my hair long and straight and shiny, and match the red of my lipstick to the red of my dress, hoping he'll see it and think about nothing other than the scarlet marks I could leave on his cock after my lips are around it. I put on high heels that make my legs look a mile long, and I take a deep breath, wishing more than anything that I were going to seduce him for any other reason.

I get to the club a little after eleven. The same bouncer is at the door, but since I'm not with Bianca this time, I wonder if I might actually have to wait. He sees me though, and grins—he clearly remembers me, which creeps me out a little—and he waves me in. I step into the club, and I'm immediately overwhelmed by the thrumming bass once again, the smell of expensive perfume and sweat over spilled liquor, and the energy of the crowd all around me.

I move through that crowd, looking around for Cormac. He's not at the bar where he was before, and as I sweep the lower level and then look up to the second, I don't see him anywhere else, either. Maybe he isn't always here. Maybe it was just for the big opening weekend event, which is basically over now. I purse my lips. If he's not here, then I'm going to have to take extra steps to find him, and I was really hoping it would be easier than that.

I go to the bar and order a vodka soda, and then settle onto a stool as another girl vacates it and consider my options. I figure the best place to start is with the bartender, so I lean forward with a friendly smile when she seems to have a moment between customers. "Hey there—I was here with someone the other night… Cormac Murphy? I wondered if you knew if he's here tonight."

The girl raises an eyebrow in clear annoyance. "Dunno," she says flatly, clearly uninterested in what I'm saying as she moves on to another customer.

I look around the room as I sip my drink. I see what looks like a member of the security team, a woman who looks to be in her late twenties, wearing black and an earpiece, and I decide that whatever response I get from her can't be worse than the brush-off from the bartender.

I toss back the rest of my drink and make my way over toward her. I give her a sheepish smile as I approach, trying not to wince at the wary look she gives me.

"Hey—sorry, I know you're busy." I lean forward slightly, dropping my voice. "I was here on opening night, and I was talking to someone—Cormac? I think he works security here. Is he around tonight?"

She looks at me with the blankness of someone who's been asked about employees by guests a hundred times and has a rote answer for it every time. "He's not in tonight."

I bite my lip. "Do you know if he'll be in this week?"

A beat passes. I can see her making up her mind whether she should say anything or not. I hold her eyes and don't push, my pulse speeding up.

"He's usually in on Thursdays," she says finally. "He helps run the weekly event security briefing."

"Thursday," I repeat. "Thank you."

She's already moving away, and I take a breath, trying to think of what to do next. Thursday is too far away. Reyes made it clear that I'm not working with infinite time, and I have no idea how long it will take me to actually find something useful in Cormac's house or get him to trust me enough that he takes me somewhere I can find it.