Page 26 of Filthy Deal


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“Sweep her trust fund?” He laughs. “That’s a joke. You don’t know half the story, boy, but you will. I’m on a private jet about to head home. We’ll talk and I promise you that even that genius brain of yours will feel enlightened.” He disconnects and I lean back in my seat.I don’t know half the story. He’s right for once where I’m concerned. I don’t know half the story, but I’ll know it all soon.

My cellphone rings and I snake it out of my pocket to find Blake’s number on the caller ID. “Talk to me,” I say, answering the line.

“There are cameras and recording devices in the room you’re in, which from what I can tell has been the case for years.”

“Of course,” I say dryly, finding the idea of my brother recording people and using those recordings against them—me included if I give him the chance, which I won’t—highly probable. “What else?”

“About fifteen minutes after you left your brother’s office, the tech team for Kingston Motors suddenly began deleting chunks of data; which even dumb shits like me that don’t have your genius IQ can assume is to hide damning information before you gain access.”

“Only it’s too late to matter.”

“Exactly,” Blake confirms. “I have everything downloaded as planned for comparison. I’ll send you a secure data file that homesin on exactly what was deleted. It’ll take a few hours once they finish what they’re doing to finish the analysis on our side, but it’ll allow you to see what matters, which is what’s now missing.”

“That’s going to be an interesting study.”

“Even more interesting, we’ve hacked all cellphones, emails, and external communications. Isaac somehow called his tech team and your father without me knowing when he did it, which tells me that he has a phone line or device that we don’t know about.”

In other words, he was operating off the grid before I walked in the door. “There’s a person I wanted you to focus on,” I say, redirecting the conversation to where I want it: Harper.

“You wanted to know where Harper fits into the family hierarchy. She doesn’t. She’s not close to any of them. She isn’t even close to her mother anymore. Word on that is there’s tension between them, perhaps over the trust, though Harper still sees her twice a week. Outside of that, she doesn’t socialize with your brother or father.”

“Not now,” I say. “What about in the past?”

“We’ve gone back two years. She’s been removed from the family for at least that long.”

“And yet she’s still here,” I comment, half to myself. “What about Gigi?”

“She has more contact with her than the others, but I’d still call it limited.”

“Then there has to be someone else. Who?”

“If you mean love interests, we’re already working that angle, but on first glance, there are only two men she’s dated over the years. They’re both rich, powerful and involved with your father and brother. However, that doesn’t raise a red flag to me, necessarily. They were in and out of her life and inside her normal social circle. That’s who she’d be exposed to, and gravitated to, naturally.”

Rich, powerful, men. The kind I wasn’t when she met me. The kind I am now. I could let my head go all kinds of places, but I don’t. My mind jumps from there to my father’s comment about Harper’s trust fund.

“I’m texting you a question when we hang up,” I say, focused on discretion. “I’m also about to grab my computer and set-up here in the office. I’ll be waiting on that data.”

“Don’t do that,” he says. “The cameras are too wide-sweeping. Take your ass out of that place. I’ll find you a sweet spot in the building by tomorrow.”

“Find it right here in this room.”

“They’ll know you had it swept.”

“Works for me.”

We disconnect after a few more words that amount to not much and I send the promised text:There could be more to the trust fund than meets the eyes. Look deeper.

Once Blake confirms receipt of the message, I reach in my pocket and start turning the mini-Rubik’s cube inside, processing all that I’ve just learned, playing with the numbers in my head. I abandon the cube and stand up, ready to ask questions around the facility. Ready to see Harper. I’m almost to the doors when they open and she enters. We now stand a few steps apart, the charge between us combustible. The two of us in the same room is like a match to a flame.

We stand there, staring at each other, the air thick, that charge all but lighting us up and I, for one, say fuck it to the family drama. I’m thinking about her naked on this conference table, and if we wouldn’t become Isaac’s nightly porn viewing, that’s exactly what I’d make happen.

Her lips part as if she knows where my head is and she cuts her gaze. “Do you need something from me, Harper?” I prod.

She swallows hard, that long, elegant, regal throat of hers that needs my mouth, bobbing before she looks at me, her stare unwavering. “Need? Yes. I need.To talk. And to give you this.” She holds up a file in her hand.“This is—”

I shake my head to silence her. Her brows knit and she tilts her head, realization seeping into her intelligent stare. She knows we’re being watched and I close the space between us. “I’ll take that,” I say, that sweet scent of her teasing my nostrils again, my cock twitching, blood heating.

She offers me the file. “You wanted my schedule,” she improvises. “I didn’t have your email, so I brought you a hard copy.”

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