Fraud (Antihero Inferno #2) - Lily White Page 0,104

fire.”

The fuck?

My eyes round and shoot to Tanner.

“That’s why,” he laughs as I shove to my feet and run out of the office. “How did you not smell that?”

Two fucking hours. That’s all it took for her to strike out.

I round the corner into the living room and see the flames, my eyes widening more despite the smoke.

An alarm blasts above my head, the guys all gathered in the kitchen trying to put the small fire out while Ivy, Luca and Ava watch from the living room.

My head snaps Ivy’s direction, and she stares at me with a blank expression.

“We were trying to cook dinner,” she says innocently, her eyes filling with concern.

Beside her, Ava and Luca cover their mouths and noses as if trying not to breathe in the smoke, but I suspect smiles linger behind their hands.

Eyeing all three of them suspiciously, I realize Ivy managed to secure reinforcements. How did I not see that coming?

When my stare locks with Ivy’s, I make a silent promise there will be hell to pay for this, but I don’t have time to deal with it at the moment.

Hauling ass into the kitchen, I throw the pantry door open and yell, “Move.”

The guys scatter, and I spin with a fire extinguisher in hand, the white substance quickly dousing the flames.

Whispering draws my attention to the right, three women speaking quietly to each other with all their eyes on me.

So this is the new game she wants to play...

She’s pushed it too far.

I turn back to assess the damage, a growl crawling up my chest to hear four of the guys lose the fight against laughing.

Dropping the fire extinguisher to the ground, I march in Ivy’s direction, her smirk calling to me like a damn siren.

She says nothing as my hand wraps over her bicep, and I drag her from the living room, her head turning back to Ava and Luca.

“It was an accident,” they call out to me in unison, but I don’t believe them. Not that I think Luca and Ava are lying, they just don’t know Ivy like I do.

After marching her into the den on the other side of the staircase, I spin her around and press her against a bookshelf, our eyes locking in battle with the metallic clash of swords.

“Exactly how is setting my kitchen on fire behaving?”

Innocent eyes stare up at me, this woman’s halo held up by her horns.

I scrape my teeth over my bottom lip, my body leaning into hers without meaning to. I can’t help myself, though.

She’s like a magnet that draws me to her. An opponent who has somehow tied her threads to mine, our hatred always tainted with something far more dangerous.

“I was making friends,” she explains, “just like you demanded of me. Grease splashed out of the pan.”

I smile, the cut of it anything but friendly.

Ivy is so full of shit her eyes should be brown.

So fucking pissed that I can’t see straight, I take a breath, pull myself back from the razor-edged precipice and search her face. The innocence never wobbles, but this is Ivy. She’s had plenty of practice.

“You set my house on fire. Pranks are one thing, but that goes beyond being harmless.”

Hurt rolls behind her eyes, denial dancing in behind it. “I didn’t do that on purpose.”

Voice dropping to a rough growl, I argue, “Really? Because you seem to have a thing for fire. Or have you suddenly forgotten the pavilion and my other house-“

“I didn’t do that!”

My eyes narrow on her.

“I mean your house. You and I both know I didn’t start that fire. And the pavilion? Are you seriously going to bring that up when you’re the one who set me up to do it?”

Her hands shove against my chest, but I’m too big for her to move. It doesn’t stop her, though. Ivy’s face twists in anger, her palms slamming into my chest over and over.

“You’re seriously fucked up. You know that, Gabe? All your damn life you’ve been wearing a mask and taking your crap out on me like I had anything to do with it. You’re so busy lying to people and making them believe the fraud you are that you can’t see anything real in other people. What just happened in your kitchen was an accident. I wouldn’t set your damn house on fire.”

I grip her chin in my hand, my fingertips a bruising grip on her jaw. Rage drives though me, not just about the fire, but about