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“You’re going to give him your work files?” Riley asks from over my shoulder.
She’s so close. My eyes drop to her lips and remain there for longer than I like. It’s ridiculous how angry I was a week earlier. Learning the truth about who she was from Brendan Chastain pissed me off beyond anything I could imagine. I literally couldn’t see because I was blinded with rage.
I had my Uncle Brutus verify everything Brendan told me. The records line up with Riley’s movements, the bank transfers, fake ID she used. They confirmed it all, right down to the homeless shelter where she lived. That night in her condo when I confronted her, she filled in a few of the gaps.
There isn’t a record of her visiting her father in jail. Ever since she’s moved to Williamsport it looks like she’s been legit. Her consulting firm has a stellar reputation.
Still.
She lied to me.
And fucked me to do it.
I can’t ever forget that.
“You’re going to give him these files,” I reply to her question.
She looks at me with raised eyebrows.
Again, my eyes drop. The shirt she’s wearing hangs low in the bent over position she’s standing in. It allows me a clear view down her shirt.
Riley gasps when she realizes what’s caught my attention.
“Have some decency.” She clasps her shirt tight to her chest.
I frown. “We both know it isn’t anything I haven’t seen before.”
“Well, it’s nothing you’re going to see again.”
My eyebrows lift. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“It’s me telling you the reality of what this marriage is about.”
I chuckle. “If you say so.”
“I do,” she says petulantly.
We’ll see about that.
The thought takes me by surprise. It’s not like I want to fuck Riley again. She lied to me. She’s a fucking con woman, and if I hadn’t found out the truth, she could’ve jeopardized everything my family has worked for generations for.
I shake my head and remind myself to get real.
“This,” I point at the laptop, “is a dummy computer. I had my security tech guys download a bunch of bullshit onto the computer. I’ll download it all onto the drive, and you’re going to pass it along to Dean.”
“That’s it? I give the drive to him after telling him I successfully snuck into your office or something?”
I watch the computer screen tick along the percentage of the files downloaded onto the drive.
“It’s a start,” I reply.
“What do you think he’ll do with these?” she asks.
“He’s going to dig his own grave,” I say.
Riley grows silent, looking contemplative. After a few beats she turns and exits the kitchen without a word. I watch her walk away, keeping my attention on the sway of her ass.
* * *
