Fatally Yours

Chapter 18

•INDIANA•

Lee decided to give me three days off, thinking I needed more time to reflect on my new situation: finally being accepted into the Valahia Syndicate.

I had put on a great act in front of them the other day to show how happy and excited I was, but the truth is, I had expected it from day one of this sting operation.

But they didn't know that, which is why Lee thought I was still on cloud nine about the news, and why he decided to let me go to "soak it all in."

Not that I minded, though. Now that I'll be working closely with the inner circle of the Valahia Syndicate, there will be no room for excuses or time to make secret phone calls back to Keith and the team. So I decided to make use of the three days by mapping out my next moves and collaborating with the Feds for ideas.

I even called Hailey to check in on her and get updates about her life. It was a risky move since Lee still has eyes on me for precautions, but we never know—this could be my last chance to call her so freely.

After the third day, I decided to drop by the mansion where they're all staying. Lee didn't call me back for any work, but I wasn't going to wait around for him to do so. I like to drop in unexpectedly, hoping to catch one of them off guard.

Whether it's innocent or not.

I parked the car outside and stepped out. The bodyguards around the house gave me a quick once-over as I approached before looking away, staring into nothing.

They should get a good look at this face, though, because I'll be coming around more often. Whether they like it or not.

I climbed the steps to the front door and walked into the foyer. Despite the mansion's sheer elegance, it felt dead. No movement or sound at all. I strolled in slowly, pulling my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans, and sent a quick text to Lee:

Me – Hey, I'm at the house. Where are you?

The message was delivered, but I got no response. I pocketed my phone again and decided to look around a bit while waiting for Lee to text me back.

The white marble floors practically glow beneath my feet, reflecting the light from a chandelier that looks like it belongs in some European palace. It's massive, with crystals that glitter in the air, casting soft flickers of light on the walls. The place feels open, vast—like if anyone screams in here, their voice would never hit a wall.

To my right, a sweeping staircase curves up gracefully, its wooden steps polished to perfection. That black wrought-iron railing is something else—twisting and curling like someone spent ages carving it by hand.

The dark iron stands out against the creamy white walls, which stretch up, broken only by these tall, regal columns that look like they were lifted out of ancient Rome or something. I follow the railing with my eyes, up to the balcony that overlooks the entrance.

Whoever built this place wasn't thinking small.

The sconces on the walls throw this warm, soft light that dances off the wallpaper—real subtle, but it screams luxury. Straight ahead, a pair of huge, dark wooden doors sits wide open, like they're inviting me further in, but my eyes are drawn to the view beyond them.

Through the doors, the green of a perfectly manicured garden stretches out, the kind of garden where you half-expect a fountain or a hedge maze. There's a breeze coming in, fresh, mixing with the stillness of the mansion's entrance, as if the whole place is waiting for something to happen.

I take a step forward, and the sound of my boots echoes just a bit, a quiet reminder of how big this place is. It's the kind of house where secrets get whispered in halls, where darkness practically oozes from the walls.