Page 29 of ’Til You Break

I nod. If you could call the soft twitch of my neck a nod.

I’m inviting the chaos at this point, and I have no idea why.

“Until next time, then,” Vik says, and takes his first step away from me.

I am still sort of expecting us to continue. I am rather surprised that things are ending this way – again.

I launch myself off the table and follow him.

“Where are you going?” I have to rein myself in from grabbing his arm and pulling him toward me.

“My office,” he says. “I have work to do.”

“But—” I stop.

Vik doesn’t.

The feeling I had afterwards at the club, of being used, is the exact reason I vetoed the idea of doing this with Vik ever again. Now it’s happened again, but this time I can’t blame alcohol for my bad decisions.

His reaction leaves me stunned. I naively expected him to turn around and address my frustrations, even if I wasn’t as explicit about them as I could have been.

However, he is either oblivious to the fact that I’m still trying to talk, or he just doesn’t care. Either way, he slips out of the room without giving me any more.

I’m left dumbfounded, astonished and shocked.

Okay. I’ll let it slide for now, I suppose. At least I am feeling an afterglow of satisfaction and contentment.

Maybe I shouldn’t complain. After all, I’m still getting all the benefits of his lust.

Chapter Ten

Vik

Fuck.

I missed a camera.

Now my mask is plastered across every news outlet and police precinct in the city. The newspaper article reveals that Frank had a damn camera in his office. It wasn’t connected to the network, only directly to his computer. Considering the nature of his work, I should have anticipated extra security measures.

One thing works in my favor, though. The article does not mention the name of the victim. Either the police don’t have it, or they aren’t prepared to publicly identify a wealthy, well-connected member of society without enough evidence to bring his attacker to justice.

Depending on what Frank kept on that laptop, I’d wager the contact labeled X on his phone will be high on their list. After all, X is the man I messaged and arranged to meet.

Given the dubious nature of their relationship, if Frank kept files on X, the police may soon start asking questions about him too. That puts me on a timer, and Saturday night can’t come soon enough. If he really is the man I’ve hunted for decades, I can’t let anyone reach him first.

I’m not worried about myself, of course. Until last night, I had no idea Frank Coleman existed. There’s no connection between us beyond a brief visit to the Crucible Nightclub, and even that would be an extraordinary leap for anyone to make. Besides, Vik Bennett is a high-profile but reclusive businessman. My public reputation has become the perfect disguise, keeping my nightly activities well hidden.

As for Frank, they won’t find him.

He’s hidden in a bunker deep in the woods, under twenty-four-hour surveillance by two of my most trusted people.

Even so, this mistake introduces unnecessary variables into my plans. One careless word from any of the countless people connected to Frank, and the men I’m hunting may become wary.

All because of one avoidable mistake.

I’m slipping. And Hannah is the reason.

But I don’t want whatever is happening between us to end. I’ve become rather fond of our little game. The way she squirms while pretending to resist, only to melt beneath my touch.