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A warning. Was it meant to be a threat?
The hair on my arms stood up, and I rubbed my neck where he had grabbed me. I had hit a nerve, that was obvious. Based on his reaction, I didn’t think it was going to be easy to get him to spill his guts. No, I would have to find evidence elsewhere.
When I looked back up, the man was gone, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Was he with the Voledetti or just some random pervert? Something told me he was up to no good, that was for sure. A sting of disappointment flooded inside of me as I realized Cian hadn’t been the one watching. Not that I would probably know—it wasn’t like he could make himself seen in front of Ryzen—but I hadn’t heard anything from him over the last few days. Not the FBI or Cian. It was unnerving to say the least. I didn’t want to dwell on it, but a part of me felt like I was being abandoned. Get the evidence so Ryzen would be locked up in prison, that was my goal. Sex with Cian was just a bonus, I guessed. It wasn’t like we had professed our love for each other. Him saying “you’re mine” when fucking didn’t necessarily equal “I love you.” I’d seen enough porn to know that. Although I wasn’t ready to accept that just yet.
Valik drove us home and I told Ryzen I would be up as soon as I changed into pajamas. I couldn’t exactly change in front of him while wearing a wire.
Tonight was the night I was going to grab the journal and take more pictures. I hadn’t had a chance the last two days to go snooping, but I would tonight. I squeezed the baggie in my hand, the sleeping pills crushed inside. Ryzen had a routine, and every night he liked to check emails, talk with Riddick, drink a bourbon and then go to bed. It was the same pattern—unlucky for him, but great for me.
I changed into silk pajama pants and matching top and tucked the baggie into my waistband. Valik was sitting outside Ryzen’s front door, and I smiled at him as I entered the code and walked in. I could hear Ryzen typing in his office, so I went behind the bar and grabbed two glasses, pouring bourbon in each of them. My hands trembled as I took out the baggie and poured the contents into his glass, mixing it with my finger.
“What are you doing?” I jumped as Ryzen leaned against the door frame, watching me.
I dropped the baggie on the floor and kicked it into the corner of the bar. There was no way he could have seen me pour the baggie into his drink, the tabletop was too high.
I smiled and held up the glasses. “Making us a nightcap so we can wind down.”
He grinned and prowled over to me. “I like the sound of that.”
I handed him his glass and held my breath as he glanced at it. He placed it on the table behind me.
Drink it!
His hand gripped my waist, and I yelped as he lifted me up and sat me on the edge of the flat-top. He stepped between my legs and dug his hands into my thighs.
“How about we unwind another way?” He leaned in and kissed the side of my neck, his breath warm.
Chills ran through my body as he dragged me closer, his cock pressing into me. I chuckled and pulled back. “How about”—I tapped my finger against his lips—“you get relaxed on the couch and I give you a nice well-deserved massage? How does that sound?”
He grinned and nodded. “Sounds perfect.”
I bet it does, you frickin’ pervert.
“Ah-ah, take your drink.” I handed him his glass and clinked my own against his. The liquid burned going down, and I didn’t take my eyes off of him as he threw his back and placed it back on the table.
Good dog.
“Let me just freshen up and I’ll be out in a minute.” I hopped off the bar and walked to the bathroom. I let out the breath I had been holding in and pressed my back to the door, sliding down until I was sitting on the carpet.
Ick. The last thing I wanted was for him to be touching me, or, worse, me touching him. But I knew Ryzen, and the way to get him to back off was to offer the possibility of sex, even though I had absolutely no plans ever to fuck him—I would never lower myself to that. Hell, I didn’t even want to willingly kiss the man. I had to sacrifice my pride and ego if I was going to do this right, but if he ever touched me like that again, I couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t end up bloody.
After a few minutes, I sighed and realized I couldn’t hide in the bathroom all night. My only hope was that the sleeping pills were already working their magic. I pinned my hair up and walked down the hall to the living room. I found him on the couch, his head tilted back and mouth open, a soft snore coming from him.
“Ryzen,” I whispered and tiptoed over to the couch. “You fall asleep, big guy?” I waved my hand in front of his face and bounced up and down in front of him. He didn’t move an inch. Great, now that that was taken care of, I could get what I came here for. My palms were sweating as I raced down the hallway to his office and shut the door quietly behind me.
Get the journal, open the desk drawer, and get the pictures I need for the FBI.
I turned his desk lamp on and went over to the bookshelf, biting my fingernails as I searched the same row for the journal.
It wasn’t there. Crap. Maybe he’d put it somewhere else. My eyes darted from row to row, searching for it, but it was nowhere to be found. If it was gone, then so was the key to the desk. I yanked on the drawer to the desk, but it wouldn’t budge.
Think, Nova.
There was a letter opener and I grabbed it, placing it in the slit. I had seen this so many times on television, it couldn’t be that hard to get a stupid drawer open. The metal hit something and I jiggled the opener around, trying to knock something loose. There was a clicking noise and I yanked the drawer open.
Holy shit, it worked.
There were three red folders and I pulled them out, opening each one. The first folder contained financial statements from different banks. My eyes bugged out of my head as I saw the balance on each one. Twenty million, eighteen million, thirty-five million. I snapped pictures of everything with my watch. The next folder had more financial documents and what looked like balance transfer requests. Same bank, same amount, just different account numbers.
