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Curiosity killed the cat, and I’m about to find out.
I watch the video a few times, then punch in a combination. Nope. I try another one. Nope.
On the third try, it clicks.
Shit.
Am I doing this?
Once I cross the line, there’s no turning back.
Connor may just want his privacy, or have highly commercially sensitive Barrett Enterprise information in here. No. Everything is digital these days—that’s no excuse.
I don’t know what I’m going to find, but I’m hoping it’s not a kink room. Connor might not be my real fiancé, but knowing he’s done dirty things to women in a secret sex room he hasn’t invited me into somehow irks me.
Then again, maybe it’s just a boring office.
I’m well aware a man like Connor wouldn’t marry a woman like me. A shrewd and gorgeous businessman would marry a lawyer or some classy woman who owns an art gallery, or a duchess from England.
Not the daughter of a mobster.
So, why?
Is he the type of man who sees me as an opportunity to manipulate my family? Or plan to hurt them?
I rub my arms as the hair on them stands on end.
Would Connor do that?
Is my father right?
If there are answers behind this door, I need to know. I turn the door handle and push it open.
My mouth drops open.
It takes me a minute to realize what I am staring at as I take a few more steps.
I stand there, my eyes roaming in horror. When I see my photo, bile rises, and I throw my hand over my mouth.
Then run.
