The Fall of East: Book 3 in the Hear No Evil Trilogy by Malone, Nana (best reads .txt) 📕

the one actually catching criminals at the moment, please let me do my fucking job."

* * *

Nyla

Jesus Christ, the old man was faster than I thought.

I sprinted through the tunnels, making a sharp left. I knew I didn't need a gun with Theroux, so I holstered it and used my free hand to guide me so I wouldn’t fall and hurt myself.

And Denning could kiss my ass. Theroux was mine. Granted, he hadn’t killed anyone, but still… He had to go down. That was the deal.

In the com I’d just shoved in my ear, East was shouting, "Ny, where are you?"

"I'm going after Theroux."

"Motherfucker. Where is Jameson?"

"Arrested. Amelia and Denning have him."

"Nyla, be careful."

"Yeah. Always am."

There was a chuckle. It was low, but I was pretty sure that was Bridge.

East's voice was firm. "Where are you?"

"I have it handled." And then I saw him up ahead, trying to find his way, making a sharp left into the crypt.

I booked after him. "Theroux, stop."

He slid into the crypt with barely a glance back toward me. When I entered the crypt behind him, I found the light switch and turned it on. It lit the whole room up. Bright as sunshine.

"Theroux."

In the burial chambers, he was running to some kind of grate in the back wall, and I pulled my gun and said, "Freeze."

He stopped and turned. He had his own gun drawn.

"You're coming with me, Theroux. You and I, we had a deal."

He turned. "God, you are persistent."

"That's my job. Now, put the gun down."

"Oh, come on, this is only for show. We both know that. You know full well I'm not going to use this. I never use guns. I hate them."

"I don't believe you. Put the gun down. We had a deal."

He chuckled then. "My God, you look so much like your mother right now, a complete warrior."

I blinked rapidly. "What the fuck do you mean? You don’t know my mother."

"Uh, Nyla, my love, I gave you everything you needed to find out the truth."

"You told me to investigate my father. All I know is that my mother was one of his informants and she was giving him intel on—" My stomach cramped as it knotted itself into the tightest of all knots. "Oh God. Oh my God."

He smiled slowly.

"You… You're my father."

He nodded. "Yes, I am your father. And your mother left me because she wanted something more. The Wilson Collins painting. That painting you so admired in Warlow's office."

My brow furrowed. "How did you know about that?"

"I found a way to have you bugged. And once you started concentrating on him, I knew what I had to do."

“So you used me?"

"No, I didn't use you, Nyla. We had an arrangement. Your mother was obsessed with the Collins painting. Leah researched it endlessly after discovering that it once belonged in her family, back when they had their wealth."

"Please stop. Stop talking about her."

"I can't. You have to know this so you will understand. I can’t stop talking about her, Nyla. I loved her."

"If you loved her so much, why did she betray you?"

"It wasn't so much me she betrayed. Warlow claimed to love her too, but he loved the painting more. When we stole it, he took it from us, and he made her think that I had betrayed her, that I was the one who had taken it."

I shook my head. "I don't want to hear this."

"She believed that I would hurt her. I didn't. I fought to get it back for her, and she loved me, but by then your father had his hooks in her. I saw her only one more time after they got together. He almost caught me, but she saved me, gave me a way out."

I drew in a sharp breath. "She was the reason he missed you that time?"

He nodded. "Yes. She loved me. But at that point, she thought it was better for you to grow up in a stable home. I didn't even know she was pregnant until you were about four or five when I went looking for her. Just looking at you, I knew you were mine."

I swallowed hard. "You can't know that."

"I knew. I confronted her, and she told me the truth. That was the last time I saw her. Your father got close to me that time too, but this time, I didn't need her help to escape. I'd gotten better. I blended in. Hiding in the shadows."

"I don't— I don't believe you."

"You don't have to believe me. Go back. Take another look at the documents I pointed you too. Look at them with new eyes knowing what I have said. You'll see it."

The problem was I didn't need to go back. I knew he was telling me the truth. I just... I didn't want to believe it. "All this time I've been looking, and you..."

"I'm probably not your ideal father figure, but I'm not so bad."

"Not so bad? You're an international thief."

"That I am. And I'm very, very good at my job. This is my last one, though.” He turned and uncovered the painting propped against the back wall of the crypt. “I wanted to get this painting for her. I know she's not here, but I want to at least return this to a place I know she loved, a place I know she would have been happy."

"You really loved her?"

"She was everything to me, and it broke my heart to lose her. So all of this, Warlow, me, your father... It's because of love. Three men loved her. Two of them continued breaking her heart."

"All this time you knew, and you could have come for me. You could have come to get me."

"You think I didn't want to come for you?"

"What am I supposed to do with this?"

"What you're supposed to do is know that I love you. Know that your mother loved you, which is probably the most important. You should know if your father was still alive, I fully