Page 24 of Prey

Still nothing. His hands are no longer loose. One of them curls against the edge of the table. I step into his space.

"Ive been watching you, Grey. Long before you ever googled Cain Micheals net worth. Long before you made a folder labeled C. Long before you took your first paperclip and hid it in that shoebox."

There. A blink, faster than a breath. He knows exactly which shoebox I’m talking about.

I lower my voice. "Do you want to know something fun?"

He doesn’t answer me, but I tell him anyway.

"I watched you take out the watch, the coffee sleeve, and the keycard. I watched you line up everything he’s ever accidentally left in your orbit. I watched you hold those things like they were holy."

I step around him, circling slowly, like I’m studying a specimen. He draws in a breath through his nose, sharp, and controlled.

"You’re very interested in Mr. Michaels, aren’t you? Such dedication. Such attention to detail. Such…investment." I mock

He turns his head, tracking me as I move. The politeness is cracking around the edges.

"If you have a point, Ms. Sophie, I'd appreciate you getting to it." His voice is still quiet, but there’s steel under it now.

"My point is that your little obsession isn‘t as secret as you think it is. And that secrecy is the only thing keeping you employed. Keeping you out of jail. Keeping you near him."

His jaw tightens. I lean in, close enough that my perfume wraps around both of us.

"If I walk into the board meeting in ten minutes and show them what I have, you’re finished." I murmur. "I tell them their golden boy secretary broke into the CEO‘s home. Watched him through cameras. Stole his things. I tell them you came on his desk. In his bed. In his sheets."

His eyes flick to mine at that, angry.

"And I tell them," I continue, "that Cain knew about at least some of it. That he didn't call security. That he let it happen. That he’s compromised. That he’s reckless. That he’s letting an unstable employee orbit him like a moon he can‘t quite shake."

I straighten, smoothing a hand down my blazer.

"HR would have a field day. The board even more so. He’s already on thin ice with some of them; they think he’s too independent, too arrogant, too willing to bend rules for the sake of a deal. Imagine how they’d react to a stalking scandal."

I let the silence stretch.

"You think you’re protecting him by being careful." I say. "In reality, you’re the easiest weapon anyone could use against him."

He laughs. It’s a small sound, half breath, half derision.

"You’re very dramatic, Ms. Sophie."

I arch a brow. "Am I wrong?"

"You don’t know everything you think you know," he replies quietly. "And you certainly don’t know me."

"Oh?" I smile.

He doesn’t move away from me. He stays exactly where he is, spine straight, fingers flexing against the table, eyes locked on mine. Something dangerous flickers there, barely contained.

"You talk like you’ve been watching me. Recording things. Collecting. You talk like you’re the only one who can do that."

Then his mouth twists.

"But you’re not, are you?"

There’s the first flash of teeth.

I tilt my head. "Careful, Grey."