Lies Between Us

Chapter Two

RAYNA'S POV

The room held the scent of aged wood and never-shared information.

Elias's restaurant concealed the space within its fake wine cellar at the restaurant's back areas. To the public it appeared as an ordinary bistro on the Lower East Side selling expensive pasta and showcasing gentle jazz music. The wine shelf cover gained no markings as it blocked an unmarked soundproof entrance from both sides.

Very few privileged individuals were given permission to enter through that entrance. The door accepted us into its hidden space this evening.

Our entry into the room happened without conversation and the city noise vanished once the heavy door ended its cycle. The soundproof area shielded powerful people from external distractions.

The rectangular table in the middle of the room shined with recessed lighting that showed its reflection to us. We left behind our horrible past as victims of our fallen reputation. Through our actions we built our future self instead of living it.

Roman selected these eight men to wait together. Quiet, dangerous men.

People with expertise in accounting made billions move covertly and attorneys made names disappear completely while former intelligence officers controlled when to talk or stay silent.

Our uncle Elias occupied the leader's seat next to us at the table because he was the last man from my father's bloodline who was acceptable to me.

On paper, he owned everything. The company. The assets. The shares. Roman and I constructed our business empire without cooperation or dishonest methods since we built everything legitimately.

We got rich from hard work done by our own hands with an insatiable drive for success. During the previous decade we became one of the fastest-growing businesses through our ethical conduct.

Elias was the mask. A necessity to shield the truth.

Roman settled beside his leader without hesitation and signaled to the rest also. I stayed standing.

Power settled differently on me. Roman controlled the power naturally like a character who moves without any resistance. I carried my protection not from clothes but from my past experiences.

Roman started the meeting as usual while showing his diplomatic nature. “Updates?”

Noah started our meeting as the head of our finance department. Thirty-two, brilliant, and borderline paranoid.

“The business at Hamilton Ridge Imports increased by 36 percent during Q2 and beyond. Offshore transfers are clean. Our organization will spread across various stock assets come the following quarter.”

I stopped paying attention to further discussion. He paid attention rather than felt lazy. I paid attention to what was significant rather than background details. I scanned for signs the Kanes observed them at any time.

But nothing.

Just business. Just growth. The business keeps expanding and nobody detects it.

They did not suspect our arrival yet.

“Rayna?” Roman disrupted my inner thoughts with a spoken interruption.

I looked up. “What?”

“You’ve been quiet,” he said with a faint smirk. “That’s never a good sign.”

I offered him a slow, practiced smile. “Just listening. Watching.”

That earned a low chuckle from Elias. “She watches better than the rest of you combined.”

He wasn’t wrong.

After the meeting wrapped, the others trickled out. Noah, Derek, Juno. Elias lingered, already on the phone, speaking in Arabic as he stepped behind the wine shelf door. Roman and I were alone.

He poured us both a drink — whiskey, no ice — and slid mine across the table.

“You’re thinking about them again,” he said.

I didn’t answer right away.

“They took everything from us,” I said finally. “And now they walk around like they didn’t burn us to the ground.”

Roman exhaled. “We’ve already won more than they know. Look at what we’ve built. We don’t need them to validate that.”

“That’s not why I want them to pay.”

He studied me. “Then why?”

“Because they’re still the headline. Still the name people bow to. Still the ones who erased ours like we were nothing.”

He walked slowly toward the far wall, pausing near the light switch. “I’m not saying they don’t deserve a reckoning, Rayna. I’m saying we don’t have to be the ones who start the fire.”

I stepped forward. “We didn’t build this empire to forget. We built it to level the scale. And the Kanes have always tipped it.”

He watched me in silence.

Finally, Roman knelt beside the briefcase he’d stashed under the table. With a soft click, he opened it and pulled out a thin black folder.

He slid it across the table toward me.

“Open it,” he said.

I did.

The first image hit me like a splash of cold water. A recent photograph — high-resolution, expertly captured. Curry Kane.

He was mid-thirties now. Still devastatingly handsome in that rich-boy, untouchable way. Charcoal suit. Rolex. Smile like a brand campaign. He looked like everything people believed he was — perfect. Untouched. Golden.

But I didn’t buy it.

His eyes weren’t smiling.

“He’s been out of the country,” Roman said. “Two years. Now he’s back. Charity events, media appearances, company tours. They’re grooming him to take over. And unlike his brother, Curry’s not reckless.”

I flipped through the other pages. Travel logs. Press coverage. Gala invitations. Not a single misstep.

No scandals. No vices. Nothing.

“How is that even possible?” I muttered.

“He’s clean,” Roman said. “Too clean. He’s either naturally boring — or hiding something.”

I didn’t believe in boring. Not when it came to bloodlines like theirs.

I reached the final page of the folder — a still image from a gala. Curry stood in the center of a well-dressed circle, champagne flute in hand, laughter frozen mid-frame.

And beside him… her.

Dark hair. Sculpted red dress. Fingers draped across Curry’s chest like she owned it.

I recognized her instantly.

Anita Delgado.

My lips curled.

Anita Delgado wasn’t just another socialite. She was a multi-billionaire in her own right — built on tech, rumors, and dangerous connections. But the thing about Anita was that she never stayed in one place too long. She clung to men with power, orbiting them like a fly that refused to leave a dying flame.

She was beautiful. Ruthless. The perfect distraction.

“She’s not just lingering,” I said. “She’s latched on. And Curry doesn’t even see it.”

Roman nodded. “She’s our in. Our opening.”

“You’re sure?”

“She attends everything he does. Their names are linked on three investment proposals. Two of them are offshore.”

That got my attention.

A crack in Curry’s clean image.

Finally.

Roman leaned forward and said what I already knew was coming.

“Get close to him,” he said. “Follow the money. And watch his every move.”

I closed the folder, adrenaline pumping through me.

“And if I find something?”

He didn’t blink. “Then you make him fall.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The air between us thickened, charged with something old and unspoken. Revenge didn’t scare me. Not anymore. But this? This was going to be personal.

Roman walked to the door and paused, glancing back.

“Curry Kane,” he said.

Then he tossed me one last piece of bait — the thing that turned my resolve into a dagger.

“He’s the key.”