CADEnce (Deception Book 2) Read online

  “You think he’s sold her out?”

  “Yep.” His usual simple answer made my heart snarl. The fucking cunt! I knew he was a little runt, just in this business for money, not love and loyalty to Faye, but fuck. The bastard. He would also be on the list.

  “Then he is included.” I looked at each of them, their simple nods confirming my command. “I don’t care who takes who, but I want Dante. He’s mine. Is that clear?”

  A round of acknowledgements announced their allegiance, except for Jenson who was still quiet.

  I turned to him, my brow quirked in question. “You need to say something, Jen, then say it.”

  “You know I love you, man. You know I would do anything for you.”

  “But?” I pressed when he swallowed back what he wanted to say.

  “But . . .” He cringed slightly then blanked his face to say what I would allow only him as my best friend to say. “It’s Dante, Cade. You know how she felt about him. What if . . .”

  “If she still loves him?” He nodded, watching my face for a reaction. I pulled back the anger; the need to punish him for releasing his thoughts was overpowering. “I know Faye better than anyone in this room, or the fucking world for that matter.” My temper built and I clenched my fists to rein it in. “She would let me know. She’s the most honest person I know. Her guilt was thick when we first got together, even after years of waiting for Dan . . . that cunt. There is no way she would just leave me for him, especially without talking to me first.”

  He nodded but didn’t hide his skepticism. “Okay. It’s just . . .”

  “I’ve got him!” Kenny shouted from his place at the back of the room, his fingers still thrashing the keyboard of his laptop. Kenny, the lead guitarist for Jenson’s rock group, was a whiz at anything technical, from hacking into the most secret of government files to software programming. He was poached by the CIA straight out of high school but preferred to piss them off rather than help them. He was a complete stoner but also a freaking genius. It had been his underhand dealings with high up people who required bank accounts hacking and altering, secret files discovering or even people finding that had provided Jenson’s group with the money to start up their band when Jenson’s parents stopped funding his lifestyle.

  He’d frantically worked for the last two hours, trying to find out where Dante could be.

  A map was displayed on his screen; numerous graphical lines criss-crossed over it as multiple coded lines scrolled up the right hand side of the monitor.

  Kenny tapped his finger on a small square icon that had zeroed in on what looked like a large building on a remote island south of Cyprus.

  “This is the nearest building to the site where Faye was taken from the plane. They could have boarded another plane elsewhere but I wouldn’t have thought so. Taking into account what the tweaker said, I reckon this is it. It has an alarm system that leaves a trace because it’s made by a modest fuck who likes to leave a signature imprint.” He grinned over at Jenson.

  “Martha?”

  “The one and only.”

  Martha, or Blue as she was better known, was a security designer and most of her work wasn’t legit. She liked to dabble in the criminal side of the law from time to time but she was the best at her type of work. She made all of Jenson’s and the band’s security software and it cost a fortune because her systems were supposed to be impenetrable. Fortunately and unfortunately for Jenson, her panties were very much the opposite. He had it bad for her and she had it bad for everyone.

  “Can you get her here?” I asked.

  He flinched before nodding. “I’ll call her now.”

  My stomach jumped in excitement, my fingers itching with the need to touch my woman. I stared at the small icon, knowing she was there; right there. Not buried under plane rubble, not a burnt out corpse, not even drowned in the sea. She was alive, and stupidly, staring at the location even if it wasn’t actually her made me feel as close to her as I had in recent months.

  “Cade.”

  I turned to Jenson. He was staring at the TV, his eyes wide before they flicked back to me. I followed his gaze back to the screen. My knees buckled as my heart slammed against my chest, the beat soaring into dangerous territory. My eyes burned as they focused on my beautiful fiancé.

  I stumbled across the room, grabbing the TV remote and increasing the volume. She sat on a dark leather couch, her stunning eyes sad but her face smiling.

  “Miss Avery,” someone out of shot, presumably the interviewer, said. “May I call you Faye?”

  “Of course,” Faye smiled softly; the sight made my heart pang.

  “Faye, there has been some speculation as to why you disappeared, not least that your plane crashed and you had . . . died. Could you tell us what happened? I take it you are unaware of the media storm around this?”

  “Firstly,” Faye said with a sigh, “I would like to apologize sincerely to everyone who thought I had died.” Her eyes held the camera and I knew she was talking to me, hope in her eyes, sadness and despair in her expression. My throat hurt as I battled with the need to cry out, the scream in my gut trying to force itself free.

  “My agent gave me no idea of the hysteria back home. I am not excusing myself, but I am holding him responsible for this. He was alerted to my vacation and . . .”

  I blinked. Vacation? She was on her way to an audition. What the fuck?

  “So you simply took a vacation?” the woman asked.

  Faye stalled for a moment, her eyes flicking upwards to the corner of the screen as though she was looking at someone. “Yes.” I read the lie in her face and the stutter in her answer.

  “Just a vacation?”

  I frowned, growing irritated with the interviewer’s need for something juicy, and as much as I wanted to protect my girl from the questions, I also needed the answers. My heart was still beating too fast, my dick stirring as it always did at the sight of Faye. Her perfect legs were crossed at the knee with a small expanse of her creamy thighs on show. Her thick hair was piled on her head and it broke my heart to see her so . . . okay. I’d expected her to be at least a bit out of sorts. She had been kidnapped after all. But then I reminded myself that Faye had won The Best International Actress award three times in a row. She knew how to put on a performance and this is what it was . . . an act.

  “Well.” Her throat bobbed, nerves only I could recognize making her little finger twitch as she dug the nail into her thigh. “I uh, I came away with my fiancé. We wanted a bit of us time. We have been arranging our wedding.”

  My legs finally gave way, my hands snatching hold of the sofa to direct my shocked body onto it. Jenson was beside me in seconds, his arm sliding around my shoulder to comfort me. I flipped him off, pulling away from him. “Don’t . . .”

  “Oh!” the annoying bitch screeched on screen. “Oh, that is exciting.”

  The forced smile Faye gave made my gut settle. She was lying. I could see it. I knew every single one of her expressions, each of her little ways and all that her body language said.

  “I have seen your handsome fiancé who very much resembles your co-star and rumored lover, Cade Troy.”

  “They are twins.”

  “So, all this speculation that you are dating Cade Troy is due to the fact you’re engaged to a perfect replica.” The reporter cooed like she was the head bridesmaid out for the bachelorette night.

  Faye twisted in her seat, her eyes never leaving the figure off camera. “They are completely different people. Nothing alike apart from features.”

  “So why keep Dante Troy such a secret?”

  “He isn’t a secret. He is a well-established professional in his own right and field. Anyone who’s worth their media degree would know that if they didn’t assume and actually looked into my background. I think that’s enough questions for now.”

  “Can I just ask when the wedding will take place and where?”

  “Oh,” Faye shook her head quickly. “It will be a while .
. .”

  “A couple of weeks!” a voice said from off camera.

  The TV screen exploded when I launched the remote at it. His voice, his fucking voice! How—fucking—dare—he—talk! I was going to kill him. Very slowly. Very painfully. With as much blood spill as possible. He was going to pay for this, and I would make sure it was my bare hands that did the deed.

  All eyes in the room were on me when I started to snatch things and shove them into a backpack, my rage only just bubbling below the surface. They all knew what I was capable of, what my demons were capable of, and each man was perceptively quiet.

  “You ready?” Frank asked. “I need to fix this bastard almost as much as you do.” The dark glaze that morphed his grey eyes into slick black orbs delighted my own darkness. This man was behind me one hundred percent. He knew Faye almost as well as I did, and he was also aware of her lies.

  “Oh, yeah.” A shiver raced through my body. I was more than fucking ready. “Time to bring my girl home.”

  I ignored Jenson’s narrow eyes. I knew he didn’t believe Faye was being held against her will but there was nothing more blatant to me after watching that interview. The bastard was holding something against her. Terror and anguish had been ablaze in her eyes, and the way her body sat rigid was a sign of her stubborn side fighting with what she was doing.

  Jenson wouldn’t know these things; he didn’t know her, or her quirky little ways. Frank and I, we spent time with her. We both knew her expertly. And we both loved her.

  I turned to each man. “Are you sure you’re all in?” They nodded.

  “I’m not sure what the fuck is going on,” Jenson said. “But whatever it is, I’m still in, Cade. You’re my best friend, and you know I’m with you for whatever. We do this together, like everything in our lives.”

  I nodded, squeezing his shoulder in thanks.

  “I know Dante. He’ll have every available man at his disposable.”

  A cruel smile twisted Frank’s lips. “Not to worry, I have friends meeting us at the airport.”

  “Friends?” Jenson asked with a lift of his brow.

  Frank was ex SAS, and his friends were dangerous fuckers to say the least. He’d had his kneecap smashed during an assignment, and had then gone into security. He was the absolute best at what he did. I hired him as Faye’s personal bodyguard after a stalker had sent her death threats a few years ago. Within two weeks of his placement beside her, he’d found the bastard and slit his throat. I loved the guy, not just for that, but for his loyalty and relationship with Faye. Killing a stalker may be extreme, and not the usual practice for A-List celebrities, but this man was a known sex offender and on a very dangerous path. He sent Faye photos of her in her bedroom taken mere feet away. That was as close as he would ever get and I would have killed him myself if I hadn’t paid highly for others to do it for me.

  “Friends,” Frank confirmed, his sinister smile making my blood hum in excitement.

  They all filed out of the room.

  Pulling out the small photo from my wallet I gazed at her smile, my own smile forming as my eyes slid down to her perfect breasts then over her flat stomach to the teasing hand that was buried between her legs, hiding that special part of her from my view. I turned the picture in my hand and pressed my lips against the lipstick kiss my girl had painted on the back.

  “I’m coming, baby,” I whispered into the air as I closed my eyes and took a fortifying breath. “Get ready, because I’m gonna slice his fucking dick off for doing this to you. That’s after I’ve gutted the bastard.”

  “WELL, GOOD LUCK TO YOU both.” Ira, the correspondent from CNN News smiled widely. I released the tension from my body with a deep exhale as Dante showed her and the camera crew to the front door. Of course, he had been the perfect gentleman in front of them; the complete opposite to who he really was. “And thank you so much for the exclusive.”

  “Thank you.” Dante smiled. “Malik will see you to your helicopter.”

  Malik appeared from nowhere, as was usual for him. I didn’t stay around. I needed to be away from both of them. If I’d thought Dante would go back on his threat to publish the videos, I would have sneakily gone with Ira back to the mainland, but I had no doubt he would stick to his promise.

  I was trapped, both physically and emotionally. I needed time to think.

  I rushed up the stairs, not even waiting until the front door was closed. My heart beat too fast with the anger surging through me, making me lightheaded and tearful. Swiping at my face, refusing to allow the tears liberation, I slammed the door to the studio behind me, quickly locking it and pocketing the key. Fuck him. I would stay in there, even throughout the thirst and hunger that would descend after a day or so. I didn’t want to be there. I would rather have died than live like that.

  I huddled into the corner of the room when the door handle rattled, anger turning into fear and making my body shake. I drew my knees up and clung to them, wishing they were Cade.

  I needed him. I missed him so much. The tears flowed as my heart squeezed tight in my chest. .

  “Cade,” I whispered through the choked sobs. “Baby, I need you.”

  “Star!” Dante growled. “Open the door!”

  I didn’t answer him, my sobs too intense to allow my voice box any usage.

  “Baby,” he said, much more calmly. My stomach heaved with the endearment. I wasn’t his baby. I wasn’t his anything. “Open the door. We need to talk. I won’t hurt you.”

  Yeah, right!

  The door rattled again and I jumped when his fist banged against it.

  “I’ll give you three hours, and if you haven’t opened the door then I will fucking remove it. I suggest you check your attitude before I come back. I’m warning you not to piss me off anymore.”

  I dropped my forehead to my knees when I heard his heavy footsteps retreat down the corridor. My heart hurt so much. All the things Dante had made me do—all the things Cade could see if Dante decided to show him. Listening to me beg to be fucked would break him. Fuck! FUCK!

  There was no proof I had been manipulated with drugs, that I had lost my memory, that I’d had no idea who I was. If he showed the world, my career would be over. Cade would never get over it. The images would destroy him. In the recent years since I had fallen in love with him, he’d shown me how I should be loved, and what love should be like. His touch was demanding but gentle. His love made me dream in shades that didn’t even exist.

  I’ll admit, in the early years, Dante had loved me like that but over time he had changed, become dark and moody, an alter ego finding its way to the surface and winning against the soft side he’d had.

  But Cade, he was so gentle. He had a dark side, I knew he did, and although he sometimes brought that side of him into the bedroom, which I enjoyed, he would never have allowed that side to be seen in any other aspect of our relationship. He loved with understanding, devotion and an intensity I could feel like an entity in the air around him.

  Vomit burst up my throat when I thought of his reaction to the press release. It would already be on the news; Ira informed me it was going out live.

  Grabbing the waste paper basket I emptied my stomach contents, which wasn’t much. My ribs hurt with the violence of my heaves, nothing but bile allowing me any release against the nausea. My heart hurt as much as my stomach, my head throbbing with the constant emotional onslaught. I now understood the saying dying of heartbreak. I was dying, my soul battered by the shock of the cruelty of someone I once loved.

  Shaking my head, trying to expel the rampant thoughts, I walked over to the shelf and grabbed the items I needed.

  A new canvas was already set up in the window. I stared out at the small building that held Dante’s secrets as I mixed several hues on the palette. I knew it held more information about him, about this, proof to my defense, but I also knew that getting access to it again now I was aware of everything would be impossible. There was no chance of ever being alone again.

>   As soon as the paintbrush touched the hessian board, I relaxed. The sweep of each brush stroke calmed my heart rate, and the covering of paint on canvas quieted my raging thoughts.

  I was home, on the inside anyway.

  MY NECK ACHED, MY EYES blinking and widening to focus again. I stretched my back, enticing the muscles back into shape. A small smile, the first one in quite a while, broke the straight line of my lips. A tear trickled from the corner of my eye as I stared at my creation. My heart lifted slightly, appreciating the view I had crafted from memory—memories, a simple thing I had taken for granted before.

  I wanted to touch it, trail my fingers across the picture but I knew I had to allow the paint to dry. The urge was overpowering.

  My stomach lurched when a bang resounded on the door. Where had the last three hours gone?

  “Star?”

  “My name is Faye!” I spat, my lip curling at the sound of Dante’s pet name.

  He ignored my reprimand. “Are you going to open the door now?”

  “No.”

  Although my whole body stiffened with fear when a huge crash rang out and the door gave way, I stood my ground, staring at Dante when he appeared in the doorframe.

  He smirked, giving me a small tut. “Now we have to pay for a new door.”

  He walked across the room towards me, his wide, angry strides causing me to back up a little.

  “I’m sure our budget will cater,” I retorted with disgust.

  His steps faltered when his eyes landed on the painting behind me. A large movement in this throat alerted me to his fury, his blazing eyes fixed on the canvas.

  I chuckled bitterly. “How amusing is it that you even went out and got the same tattoos as your brother. Quite sad how jealous you always were of him.”

  I gritted my teeth when his hand curled around my throat, his wrath lifting my feet off the ground. I didn’t struggle; I didn’t give him the satisfaction.

  “I would love you to end my life right now. I’d rather fuck the Devil himself than you,” I choked out around his hold. “You’ll be killing my baby too though, Dante.”