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After a beat of silence, his voice comes through the speaker.
“I’ll take care of it. You get me the files. I’ll text an email address for you to send everything to.”
Then, the phone goes dead. A second later, it vibrates.
One unread message.
10
WRYN
Connor is gone. I watched him leave with Geo without saying anything to me, but I’m okay with it. I don’t think I could have kept a great—or even good—poker face.
He never came back to bed last night, and I would know since I lay awake the rest of the time, my heart still pounding, replaying the conversation with Viktor over and over. I can’t shake the feeling that I dug us into a deeper hole. That I set in motion things that I can’t undo. But I have my mission, and I must do it.
It’s sketchy. My skin crawls with anxiety as I creep down the stairs, peeking around corners like a bad child. I suppose I am. I shouldn’t be doing this, but a favor is a favor. And when the head mob boss of a crime family like the Leonis calls a favor in, you don’t say no.
I knew what I was getting into by going to him. He held up his end of the bargain, and now, I have to hold my end up. Even though I’m a traitor.
Is it really stealing if my heart is in the right place?
It’s not like I’m enjoying this.
I shake my head, trying to clear it from the sirens blaring inside, telling me to turn around—don’t pass go, don’t collect two hundred dollars.
I don’t fucking listen. I can’t.
A door closes somewhere in the house, and I freeze, my hand on the banister. If someone were to see me right now, they would immediately know I was up to something.
Get it together, Wryn,I chastise myself.
No footsteps come this way, so I resume my descent, then turn, heading down the hallway to Connor’s office. I know he keeps it locked now, and I know he keeps the key in his bedside table drawer. Not the most inconspicuous of places, but it helps me in my endeavors.
The cold metal is biting into my palm where I clench it, probably slicked with sweat since I’m profusely pitting out.
I don’t think I was this nervous the night I met with Bertrand. But my heart wasn’t involved there.
I’m such a shitty wife. I’m disloyal.
My gut clenches.
I try to tell myself that Connor doesn’t really want this life, that he won’t care if I give his records to the enemy.
Sort of enemy?I’m not sure what Viktor is. He did save Connor’s life. And he’s going to help us get out from under the other four, who are keeping a tight hold on things.
But I don’t think he is our friend. At all. And I think what I’m doing might be our downfall.
I don’t remember walking to the office once I stepped off the stairs, but suddenly, I’m in front of the door, my hand shaking as I reach out to insert the key. There’s no one in there—I know that—but I feel like I’m about to be caught in the act, that Connor didn’t leave and he will be sitting behind the desk and want to know why I’m breaking into his office. My imagination is running wild.
I finally get the key in the lock. I listen as the tumblers turn, the key going sideways, and I turn the knob slightly, now knowing I can get in.
Part of me hoped it wouldn’t work.
But here I am.
I quickly step inside and shut the door behind me, then lean against it, my heart thrumming wildly in my chest. I glance around the room, and once I have ahold of myself, I step away from the door. Then, I turn, remembering to lock it.
I drag one finger over the top of the desk as I walk around it, then sink into the plush chair and plant both hands on the papers strewn about. I have to quickly sift through these and see what I can find since I’m not sure exactly what amount of time I have. I struggle, trying to decide which method of replication I should use.
