Page 122 of High Reward

“Smart man. How much danger is he in for having shared this with us?”

“Let’s just say that until now, the only time I’ve ever seen him sweat is when Amarjit has her boot on his balls, and he was sweating today.”

Owen lets out a staccato laugh. “Fair enough, mate. I’ll let you know what all I get off of this thing, but so far, it’s looking like Griffin Price has been after us and a few other people around the country, hell the world, for a long time.”

I drag a hand through my hair. “What are the odds he’s the real puppet master and not Phineas?”

Owen hums. “There’s an idea. There was always something fishy about the lack of financial trail for Phineas. You can bet I’m going to be looking into Griffin and Crimson Peak, but we both know that Crimson Peak is likely just the first of many shell companies that hides his network of financing. He’s smarter than any of us have given him credit for. Here’s the thing… and don’t shoot the messenger.”

I step forward. “Tell me. Don’t sugarcoat it.”

“We’re fairly sure Griffin had a connection to Kara Lindon years ago. Where were the four of us back then?”

I close my eyes and let out a muttered curse. “How has that not occurred to me until now? What does that do for your research?”

Lili squeezes my shoulder again and bends down to kiss my hair, whispering, “I’m going to go find Grace and leave you to your call. Find me when you’re done?”

I pull her into my lap instead of letting her leave, wrapping her slick ponytail around my fist to pull her head back and give me access to my neck as Owen rattles off an answer about the pile of data he has to sift through.

My teeth graze her skin, and she lets out a little gasp, which earns her a sharp look and a nod toward the phone.

She clamps her lips together, taking my warning seriously. This time, my teeth sink into the tender flesh where her neck and shoulder meet, and I take pleasure in the way she squirms on my lap in an effort to remain quiet.

“It sounds like you’ve got this under control then,” I say, wrapping my arm firmly around Lili’s waist. “Let me know when you want to get everyone together for a report.”

Owen grunts in agreement, and I end the call.

“Now, what were you saying about finding Grace?”

She clears her throat and tries not to look flustered. “I think I was saying we should go find her together and bring her to the suite.”

I smirk and nudge her off my lap so I can stand. “Let’s go.”

In the hallway, we bump into Tyson who is whistling as he carries a tray of food.

He lifts the cover and a delicious smell wafts from the tray. “I made mini tacos for everyone to try. Thought I’d take a vote and make the top three flavors for your birthday next weekend.”

I flash him a glare as Lili’s eyes light up beside me. “Birthday? This is exciting.”

“No, it’s not,” I grumble. “Pretend you didn’t hear that.”

“Sure, Vic. Whatever you say.”

I groan and then kiss her cheek as Tyson jerks his head toward the kitchen. “Can I talk to you for a minute, Victor?”

“Go find Grace,” I tell her with a tight smile, hoping she won’t catch on to the vibe that something is wrong with Tyson. “I’ll catch up with both of you soon to finish what we started in my office.”

She winks and snags a taco from Tyson’s tray as she sashay’s off in the other direction.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m considering leaving Las Vegas,” Tyson says, dragging a hand through his hair.

He glances over his shoulder as if someone might be listening, then lowers his voice. “I got an offer. To open a restaurant in New Orleans. Not just as a consultant, but as executive chef, with my name on the door. It’s… prestigious. The kind of place people fly into town just to eat at. The owner reached out after that private event you had me run last month, so we know he lives our lifestyle. Said he’s been looking for a chef who can handle pressure and create something special. He wants me there as soon as possible. Already has a building secured, and I would get final say on kitchen and dining room layout and hiring and firing power of key staff.”

I walk backwards the few feet that takes us into my office again and motion for Tyson to set the tray down. He paces in front of my desk, clearly torn.

“What’s the trouble?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.