“Don’t lie to me, Adrian,” I say firmly the moment I sense that he’s about to feed me one.
“Some nights, I was gambling,” he admits. “Some nights, I was in bars drinking. Other nights—”
“You were terrorizing young women and selling them into prostitution?” I ask bluntly.
His eyes jerk to mine. There’s definite shock in his expression, but I’m not sure what to make of that. Is he shocked that I know, or is he shocked that I would accuse him of something so heinous?
Even as I make the accusation, I feel a shudder of uncertainty. What if I’m wrong? What if the man that Angela described to me was not Adrian?
“J-June…” he stammers. “How can you even think I would be capable of doing something like that?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “My own brother… I mean, s**t. We’ve always had our d
