Deception (Infidelity #3)

Though he was joking, I found more than a little bit of truth in his humor. Lennox Demetri had shown me a side of himself that I doubted many people had seen or even knew existed.

I pursed my lips. “Fine. I’ll stay here. Just promise me that you’ll come back. Promise me that you’ll stay safe.”

Once again he leaned down on the bed. This time he kissed me, soft and chaste. “I promise. Thank you for not fighting me on this. I need to concentrate on the hearing.” He looked down at his phone. “I need to be going.”

I nodded. “I’m going to take a quick shower. Will you please ask Silvia to hold my lunch?”

When he looked up, the menacing gleam was gone.

“What?” I asked.

“Look at this.” For the second time today, he thrust his phone my direction. “You might want to reconsider what you tell your professors.”

My stomach dropped as I secured his phone in my now-shaky grasp. The video queued on the screen needed only for me to push the small triangle in order for it to play. In the still picture I could make out a crowd of people.

I hit the triangle.

The sound was terrible, mostly static and unrecognizable voices. The picture was shaky and unfocused. It had undoubtedly been taken with someone’s cell phone. It wasn’t until near the end when the photographer zoomed in on a couple being escorted into an SUV that I saw myself. Instead of keeping my head down like Nox had done, I looked up over my shoulder at the crowd. There wasn’t a name, but it wouldn’t take long before it was figured out.

The small news snippet asked if anyone knew how this couple was involved in the shooting of an innocent woman in Central Park.

I dropped the phone on the bed, my stomach bubbling with acid and dread. “What? What can I do?”

“Stay put. Let me talk to Deloris. Don’t call Columbia or talk to anyone until she tells you what to say.”

I nodded.

“Princess, I love you. Don’t go rogue on me. With all the fucking chaos, please let me have the peace of knowing that you’re safe.”

The corner of my lips quirked upward as I tilted my head. “Only because you begged, Mr. Demetri. I do love it when you beg.”

Nox came closer and reached for my hand, encouraging me to stand.

“No,” I shook my head. “I’m… well, I reek.”

“Fucking stop saying that,” he admonished as he pulled me to my feet. “You smell amazing.” He smoothed my hair. “And your hair is perfect. Hot sex is the best hairstyle on you.”

My cheeks filled with warmth as they undoubtedly colored with crimson.

He pulled me close, my bare skin against his slacks and shirt. I inhaled as the cold buckle of his belt sent a chill against my stomach. “Alexandria Collins, I meant it when I said I love you. I will beg you every fucking day if it keeps you with me, but…” The gleam returned to his sexy blue eyes. “…I expect to be obeyed.” I fidgeted in his grasp. “Princess, I’ll be glad to spank your ass, just don’t make me do it because of your putting yourself in danger.”

“Is that a promise, Mr. Demetri?”

He shook his head. “Are you trying to make me later than I already am?”

I nodded. “Guilty as charged. I’m trying to make you want to stay with me. Maybe you should punish me now?”

He shook his head again. “I should, and I do want to stay.” He kissed me, his tongue teasing my lips, urging them to part. Willingly, I opened, taking all that he had to offer. When he pulled away, he continued. “I’ll call.”

“Nox?”

“Yes, princess?”

“I love you, too. You told me that you’re always truthful. You promised you’d come back safe. I’m holding you to that.”

“I won’t disappoint.”

I couldn’t stop the grin, though my chest felt as though my heart might break. He was right. He hadn’t disappointed me yet.

I stood nude in the darkened room, the evidence of our lovemaking fresh upon my thighs as Nox disappeared through the door, leaving me alone.





I PUSHED THE chicken salad around my plate, separating the grapes from the nuts. I liked them all, but I wasn’t hungry. Lifting my gaze from my plate, I stared out of the breakfast-nook windows toward the water. The afternoon sun looked warm as it shone not only on the crystal blue pool, but also beyond the deep green lawn to the sound. The scene was beautiful, calming even.

I needed something to calm me as I waited for Nox’s call. How long did it take to fly from New York to DC? Considering the time it took for my shower and now lunch, he’d been gone for nearly an hour. Rationally I knew he’d also need to be driven back to the city, but that didn’t stop my heart from aching.

My phone sat beside my plate. If I weren’t waiting for his call, I’d turn off the sound. From the clamor of noises—notifications, emails, and tweets—I suspected that my name had been discovered as one of the people leaving the scene of a shooting.

What did that even mean?

We couldn’t be suspects, could we?

With a huff, I pushed back the plate, grabbed my phone and the tall glass of iced tea. Even with the shower, I’d like something else to wear. My capris and top seemed jaded by the memories of the scene in the park. As I walked around Nox’s lovely home, I didn’t notice the elegant furnishings or the stately architecture. My mind was desperately trying to replay the morning scene.

In the photo I was looking beyond the bodyguards, looking out to the crowd. Yet I couldn’t recall seeing the victim.

My nearly empty stomach twisted.

The woman’s only crime was jogging. I jogged in the park every Saturday. I’d just been talking to Nox, telling him how we should run in the park instead of on a treadmill. That was all she’d been doing—exercising, and with her child no less.

I was an English and political science major. Physics was never my thing. After calculus I went into micro-and macroeconomics. I understood math as a property of finance, not angles and projections. Somehow, a bullet aimed at either Nox or me was shot from a gun with one of us in the sights and by a person who I would venture to guess was good at what he or she did, when at just precisely the right moment, this woman stepped into its trajectory.

How ironic was that?

The shrill ring of my phone pulled me from my thoughts. I recognized the tune. It was my mother. I took a deep breath as I turned the screen toward me and confirmed the name.

I could let it go to voicemail, but eventually I’d need to talk to her. Had she seen my picture? Did she know I was—at the very least—connected to a violent crime in Central Park?

Taking a deep breath, I swiped the screen and held tightly to my midsection. With my phone to my ear, I said, “Hi, Momma.”

“Alexandria, I’m sending a plane. Where in the fuck are you? You’re coming home today.”

The phone didn’t need to be at my ear. Silvia, no matter where she was in the house, could probably hear. It wasn’t the words that set my nerves into overdrive. It was the voice.

With the small hairs standing at attention on the back of my neck, I sucked in another breath. “Alton, where’s my mother?”





“FAMILY,” CARMINE COSTELLO said as he hugged Angelina.

“Zio,” she replied with a smile.

“Oren,” he said, his hand extended.

“Sir, we’re happy to be here today.”

“Yes, yes,” Mr. Costello replied as he walked through the house, his arm around my wife, his niece.

What I’d said was partially true. Angelina and I would never decline an invitation to her uncle’s home. That wasn’t only because he was her family, her father’s brother, but because he was the head of her family. No one declined an invitation.

It wasn’t as easy as it had been to get to the Costello home. When we’d still lived in Brooklyn, we could walk. Now we had our house in Westchester County. Sometimes it was as though they had forgotten that we’d moved. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d received late-night phone calls requesting my presence at a family meeting. Thankfully, late at night, the traffic was more forgiving.