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“Oh, fuck, Rhi. I’m going to come,” I’d grit out.
She wouldn’t stop, and I’d get off deep inside her and she’d swallow it all down. She’d glance up, and I’d peer into the pools of brown, imagining a different outcome to my life. To a life of her and me ending up together.
A life that is never going to happen. I shake the thoughts as soon as the ding on the elevator sounds.
“Are you ok?” she asks, as I quickly step out, leaving my fantasy behind.
“This way.” We walk the short distance to my offices, and I hold the door for her.
She steps inside, and her eyes dart around the large waiting area.
“You’ll sit here.” I point to a padded leather chair, and she drops down into it, crossing her legs. I narrow my eyes at her sudden demureness. “I’ll be in there,” I jab a thumb over my shoulder. “No funny business.”
She raises a brow.
“I can see you through the glass.”
She nods, remaining quiet.
“I'll be done shortly.”
James Marsh and Todd Halsom, private investigators, are both waiting for me when I step inside.
“Let’s get started,” I say, taking a seat at the conference table.
“So, these are Mr. DeLaurio’s accounts that we know of,” Todd says, pushing a paper closer to me.
“And we’re sure he’s involved with this gambling ring?”
“Yes, and look here,” he points to a name on the paper, “this is a shell corporation, which is also a big contributor to Ian Bingham’s campaign fund.”
“And that same company is holding the DeLaurio’s...”
“Bookie’s funds,” Todd finishes off for me.
Interesting. “And this proves it?”
“Yes,” James says.
I glance to Rhiannon sitting quietly with her arms folded in her lap. She chews her bottom lip, and I divert my attention to the next file James grabs from his briefcase to set on the table.
He slides the papers in my direction. “Here’s that file you asked for. And I think there’s enough here to prove everything.”
I grab it and pull it closer. “Ok, I’ll read this tonight.”
I glance up and Rhiannon is gone.
Fuck.
Chapter 19
Rhiannon
Third time’s the charm. I race toward the elevator and breathe a quick sigh of relief when the doors swoosh closed.
Threat level midnight here. I don't know who those men were or how they fit into this twisted game, but I'm taking my piece off the board.
The blonde receptionist casts her steely eyes on me as I rush through the empty lobby. The sweet taste of freedom is just on the other side of the revolving door in front of me. I’m almost home free.
