Akio puts down his phone, his jaw clenching. “Yeah, quite a bit actually. Like several offshore bank accounts in Luxembourg. Turns out Officer O'Brian makes bookoos of money by writing off missing girls as official runaways and covering Helix’s tracks. Luna wasn’t the only one. There have been dozens over the years.”
As soon as we saw the officer’s face last night, we knew. He’d played us those fifteen years ago when we’d called in Luna as a missing person. His death is inevitably ours. Too bad he got away last night, or we’d be elbow deep in his blood by now.
“We’ll find him,” Dec assures us. “Unfortunately, Clay may be a little on edge after I killed his muscle, so tracking him for shipments is a dead end.”
“Actually, we might not be as fucked on that front as you think,” I say, jumping into what I’d learned about Helix Enterprises wanting to work with Lunar Security.
We spend the next few hours developing the plan for the meeting with Sebastian Helix before I call it a night and head upstairs. I pass Fallon’s room on the way to mine, and hesitate, contemplating checking on her, but ultimately forcing my feet to continue down the hall.
This is exactly what we don’t need. Fallon Helix has been nothing but a pretty distraction from what we’re doing here. She’s only a pawn, a piece on the chessboard where sacrifices are made for the win. My brothers need to remember that. And I can’t afford to let myself think of her as anything more.
After a quick shower, I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, thoughts whirling about what we’d learned about Officer O'Brian. Yeah, we have a name and a face now for who’s been in Helix’s pocket, but it still doesn’t feel like we’re making progress since we brought Fallon into the mix. At least, not as quickly as I’d hoped we would.
I open my nightstand drawer and pull out the dainty silver bracelet I’ve carried all these years as a reminder of our goal. I’d gotten the chain fixed a few weeks after she went missing, hoping to present it to her when we found her, but fifteen years later, here we are. No Luna and still no answers. But what else is new? No answers for who took Luna, no answers for what started the fire that destroyed my childhood home, taking my parents and little sister with it. No answers for why I was tossed from foster home to foster home, enduring beatings and verbal abuse, going without holidays and birthdays, until I finally aged out and made a home of my own with the only two people left in this world I care for.
It’s always the fucking same.
A burst of anger rockets through me and I toss her bracelet back in the drawer before slamming it shut. No matter what I do, the money, the intel, the threats and killing — answers are always out of my grasp. I thought bringing Fallon here would bring us a step closer, speed up this process, but all she’s done is mess with my head and unlocked a torrent of fears I thought I’d laid to rest long ago.
I run a hand through my hair and flop back on the bed. There’s no way I’m sleeping anytime soon, not with my head in this space. I flip through my emails, check the stock market, and even make a few notes for myself on another invention I’ve been considering lately to distract myself. But after an hour, temptation wins out, just like it has every night, and I pull up the cameras on my phone, going straight to the live feed of Fallon’s room.
My eyes narrow on the empty bed.
Where the hell is she?
Fallon
What could be worse than having a sex dream about your three kidnappers? Waking up after having a sex dream about your three kidnappers, horny as hell, and with no way to release that… tension.
With the camera in my room and Akio’s penchant for watching, I’m on a self-pleasure strike. Let’s call it my body’s punishment for wanting to jump their bones so badly I’m dreaming about it. It’s almost like my body didn’t get the memo that we don’t fuck toxic men.
What happened today doesn’t help matters either.
After last night at the warehouse, I think my body finally had enough trauma over the past few weeks and decided to rebel with a massive migraine. It was so bad that at one point Dec I’m-allergic-to-smiling Huxley actually made a joke and I didn’t notice because I was so focused on keeping my brain matter inside my head. Both he and Akio forced me upstairs to rest after that, shoving medicine down my throat and making me drink at least two cups of water while they watched. It was weird being fussed over by the same monsters that had tortured me, but also, strangely…nice?
They’re starting to mess with my head. That’s the only reasonable explanation for why I’m having such intense dreams about them. Although, I admit sleeping all day has its perks. Like getting to roam the house at night like a free woman.
I swallow back my evil laugh as I slink through the dark hallway and up the flight of stairs to the fourth floor. It’s the only level I haven’t been to yet, and I’m curious as to what they’re hiding up there.Bodies? A sex dungeon? Matteo’s personality?Whatever it is, I just hope it takes my mind off of this restless energy pumping through me.
At the top of the stairs, I’m greeted by wide double doors. Without wanting to draw attention to myself if any of the guys are awake, I push them open as quietly as possible.
“No fucking way,” I breathe, stepping inside the massive room lined with shelves stuffed with books from floor to ceiling. I must be living in my own fucked up fairytale because this is the dark academia library of my dreams.
Rich, soothing shades of black and deep green decorate the room, with dark wood paneling covering the walls. Soft lighting emanates from gold sconces strategically placed to cast a gentle glow over the vintagewriting tables lining the spaces between each shelf. There's a black marble fireplace dominating one wall, and in front of it sits a plush, oversized velvet forest green couch covered in throw pillows, next to a leather wing-backed chair. It’s a mix of elegance and comfort and dark and moody and it’sperfect. Just what I need to get my mind off these weird and unwanted feelings I’ve been having for the guys.
Taking my time, I explore their collection, shuffling down one row of books to the next. I notice a section displaying old relics on the shelves, and in the middle is an ancient Egyptian Anubis mask. It wouldn’t surprise me if they paid a pretty penny for it, for all the priceless collection items they have proudly displayed here. But that mask… it makes me think about the first time I saw the three masks that have dominated my mind for a while now. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my heart race and my thighs slick with arousal when they donned those masks in the club, or even when they were chasing me through Helix Enterprises. Even though I’ve seen their faces, a part of me wouldn’t mind them throwing those masks on and recreating those memories again.
Shaking my head, I clear away the thought. Since when do I have a mask kink?
I continue down each aisle, looking for a book to read. Regrettably there aren’t any of my preferred fantasy romances, but I find a shelf in the far back with some old classics. I pull the worn hardback copy ofThe Count of Monte Cristofrom the stack and sprawl out on the couch, sinking into the massive cushions with a sigh of content.
I’m not sure how long I read, but I’m just getting to Edmond Dantés' downfall when a deep voice startles me. “What the fuck are you doing out of your room?”
I yelp, the book tumbling into my lap as I hastily scramble into a sitting position. My eyes fixate on Matteo’s dark figure in the doorway. “Fuck. You scared me.” His glare pierces straight through me. “What?”
He stomps into the room, and my eyes dip down his body. He’s shirtless, with his bronze muscles out on display. Gray sweatpants hanging low and loose off his hips, accentuating the twin lines angling toward his groin. I snap my attention back to his face. “How the fuck did you get out of your room?”
“Nobody locked me in, dickface.”
