“It took a lot of work tracking their payments through the numerous channels they used. They also kept the transfers under ten thousand dollars to not trigger an alert, but I linked the original transfers from business accounts of Isaac’s to an associate of Vladimir’s.”
I wish I were lying, but it took four sixteen-hour days to match up Isaac’s payments with funds deposited into Vladimir’s accounts. It was how I kept myself occupied during Regan’s latest bout of refusing to take my calls. I guess in a way it was a godsend. I may have stormed over to Regan’s apartment and demanded she speak to me if I hadn’t kept my head in the game. Considering her father is visiting, long days at the office were best for all involved.
Remaining quiet, Isabelle scans the documents. She takes her time assessing the information, her prolonged gaze revealing she’s viewing it through both the eyes of an agent and a woman trapped in a lust trance.
After a few more minutes, she snaps the folder shut before handing it to me. “Thank you for sharing this information with me, but I trust Isaac. He would never hurt me. There has to be something more to this story.” Her words are strong, but her voice is anything but.
“Isabelle, don’t be foolish. You need to get out of his stranglehold and investigate this more thoroughly.” I sigh, grateful my voice is more concerned than angry.
“I will. I’m going to.” Isabelle waves her hand around my office. “Just not here.” She stops when her words croak.
I give her time to settle herself, but it soon becomes apparent nothing she does will soothe her panic.
“I have to go.”
She darts for the door, only stopping when I ask her the question I’ve been dying to ask for weeks, “Did you know Isaac and Regan kissed?”
Her shoulders roll high before she spins around to face me. “Yes,” she answers with a nod.
I freeze, stunned as fuck.Why isn’t she angry?
“And if you stopped and evaluated the facts like you’re requesting me to do, you’d realize why they did it.”
Her comment oddly mimics ones I’ve heard earlier, but since it’s coming from a person who was as victimized by their exchange as me, it’s a little easier to stomach.
“Isaac isn’t a threat to your relationship with Regan, Alex. Only you are. And if you wait too long, you’ll lose her, and you’ll regret it every day of your life.”
After a final glance that is equally sorrowful and angry, she pivots on her heels and exits my office. As she breaks through the glass frosted door of HQ, I slump into my chair. My hand shoots up to the chin I wish was still covered in scruff, as a big clump of wiry hair would have hid the massive tick in my jaw. I’m not mad. I’m more confused than anything. Regan said she kissed Isaac for Isabelle, but how does that make any sense? What benefit would Isabelle get from them playing tonsil hockey?
“I thought you were IA.”
My eyes snap to my door so fast, my brain tingles. Regan is standing just outside my office wearing her standard work attire: a tight skirt and a shimmery blouse. Although her shoes aren’t as sky-high as the ones she usually dons, they’d still have no trouble gouging out the eye of any man brave enough to give her sass.
I better tread carefully, as her narrowed eyes reveal she heard part of my conversation with Isabelle. Come to think of it, she may have heard all of it. She looks two seconds from cutting out my nuts and boiling them. It’s a good look for her; she should wear it more often. I’ve missed seeing the strong, determined woman I fell in love with. Regan’s been so reserved the past few weeks, I was beginning to wonder if I had just lost my best friend.
My hope she is here for personal reasons fly out the window when her shuffle exposes a briefcase I didn’t realize she was holding until now.
Noticing the direction of my gaze, she murmurs, “Can I come in?”
Humiliated I was too busy checking her out that I lost my manners, I stand to my feet and gesture for her to enter. She does, albeit hesitantly.
I wait for her to fill the seat Isabelle just vacated before asking, “What do you mean you thought I was IA?”
A beautiful blush colors her cheeks. It’s more an annoyed flush than the uncomfortable heat her blushing face causes to my body. Even irrefutably angry, my body can’t help but respond to her closeness.
“Before Isabelle was arrested, she was having issues with a certain member of IA—”
“Theresa?” I fill in.
Regan nods, then growls. Usually, I’d join in, but my veins are still thick with euphoria from seeing Theresa’s name on an arrest warrant three days ago. It may be a year later than I would have liked, but Theresa is finally answering the questions she should have been asked years ago.
This kills me to admit, but if it weren’t for the information Isaac supplied Ryan with, we may still be chasing our tails. “Theresa shouldn’t be a problem for Isabelle anymore.”
Regan halfheartedly shrugs. “Maybe not for Isabelle, but I don’t see her backing away from my client any time soon.” She shimmies her shoulders. “Anyway, back to business.”
When her wary eyes stray to mine, I dip my chin, showing I understand she isn’t here on a personal matter. She smiles, grateful for my understanding. I really wish she wouldn’t, as it has me instantly forgetting work.
My composure is quickly gathered when Regan says, “Because we didn’t know who was in the surveillance van, I advised Isaac it wouldn’t be wise for him to be seen entering his. . .” she coughs to clear her throat, “. . .fuck padwithout a woman on his arm.”
