The money you hid...somewhere for Daddy...for when he gets out.”
She didn’t know how to tell if he was lying. He was a professional liar, with a college education in advanced treachery, and had probably interned a few summers in double dealing. But as he shook his head and looked at her, she knew all too well what was etched on his face: Pity.
Lucy bit her lip. In the last six months she’d seen enough pity in people’s eyes to last her ten life times.
“He doesn’t have any hidden money, does he?”
“No,” Luvici said, smiling with the most infuriating empathy. “ They were thorough. Seized everything he had before they even arrested him.”
“I see.” Lucy felt like her chest was about to collapse. All her renewed hopes and dreams were starting to fall apart around her like little black snowflakes, making her vision cloud up. She shook her head, refusing to tear up again. She was done crying.
If there isn’t any of Daddy’s money, then there’s always his...
She looked Luvici straight in the eye. “Blackmail is such an ugly word.”
This got his eyebrows to furrow. “I didn’t say anything about blackmail.”
“I know,” Lucy said, “but since I’m about to blackmail you, I thought I’d bring it up.”
“You’re going to blackmail me?” Luvici practically chuckled.
“Scarlet Jones would probably love to learn how you skimmed an extra thirty percent off every contract you drew up for her construction consortium.”
Luvici smiled. It wasn’t a friendly or generous smile. It made him look like a hungry, feral animal. She felt her flesh crawl, yet she pushed herself on.
“I remember Daddy saying Ms. Jones had a nasty reputation for reeking bloody vengeance on people that cross her.”
Luvici raised both hands, mimicking the gesture Lucy had used on Darla. But he did it better.
“Yes. If I had it to do over again, I would’ve heeded the rumors about Scarlet.” He sighed sadly. “Beautiful creature, but so bloodthirsty.”
“Then you can see—”
“That’s why I’ve already made restitution—and then some—to Ms. Jones.”
Lucy sat there in a moment of shocked silence. “What?”
“You see. Your father already used that one on me. That’s the only reason I defended him. Friendship doesn’t go far in the real world. Just—”
“Cash and good PR,” Lucy finished for him absently.
“You sound just like your father, sweet-meats. Too bad you think just like him too. But slower.” He reached into a drawer and Lucy jumped as he pulled something out. She was sure it would be a gun, or a knife, or a really big gun. But it turned out to be a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He leaned back as he tapped out a smoke and then lit it up and drew in one, two, three deep drags from it.
“Would you like one?” He held out the pack to Lucy.
Lucy grimaced. “A world of no.”
“So, you see, I made sure no one else could use that one against me again. And in the process, now I’m tapped out. I couldn’t pay you anything even if I wanted to.” He looked Lucy squarely in the eyes, and then winked. “Not that I want to.”
Lucy reached into the folds of silk that clung about her breasts. This got Luvici’s undivided attention. The smile fell right off his face, replaced by a sudden rush of ruddy lust. Even his ears were turning red. Her fingers brushed across the cheap vanilla paper, and she caught it between her fingers, extricating Luvici’s business card from her cleavage.
She held it up, turning it so he could see the back of the card. “Has your home number on here. Wonder what the wife would think if I told her about hot little Darla out there?”
If anything, Luvici seemed to enjoy what she’d just threatened him with. His smile turned down right grotesque.
“Knock yourself out.” He said, “My wife doesn’t care if I screw every woman in California, as long as
Nikita Singh, Durjoy Datta