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Shit. Please don't see the resemblance.
My heart is about to break through my ribcage. Could Domenic tell just by looking at her? My mother says Evie looks like me aside from her dark hair, but I don't know, and now I'm panicking. I can't even bring myself to look him in the eyes when I turn back, shrugging and looking out one of the windows into the backyard, pretending it's no big deal to me that he just saw her.
"About taking off work tomorrow, I'm really almost all settled in, so there's not really a need—"
"Your daughter. What's her name?"
I break off and force myself not to fidget because that would be incriminating. "Evelyn. I call her Evie."
I finally meet his gaze and sense that he's debating asking the one question I don't want him to. I know he can do easy mental math and gauge that her age matches up with the first night we were together three years ago. If Domenic asked me outright if Evelyn is his daughter, I think I would snap, and then he might take her away from me eventually, and I absolutely can't have that.
But it was one time, three years ago. We used protection. Right now, he has no reason to suspect that protection failed. So I'm panicking for no reason.
Summoning my considerable acting skills from years of scamming casinos, I smile and lie through my teeth like my ass is on fire.
"Her dad wasn't interested in being in the picture when I told him the news. Which I'm fine with. I'm sure he's still…you know, partying with frat boys or whatever. Just your typical party guy."
It's the biggest lie I've ever told on multiple accounts, but it's all I have as a defense right now. If Domenic buys that he had nothing to do with Evelyn's paternity, surely he'll ignore her while we're staying here. He has no obligation toward a child who isn't his. No reason to look further into it.
A muscle jumps in Domenic's clenched jaw as he examines me for a long moment. I don't so much as bat an eye. I'm a good liar, and I know it, so I keep my pose relaxed. He looks out the window.
"I see. And what'shisname?"
Oh, God. The undertone in this mobster's voice is serrated ice, more savage than I've ever heard before. Is he angry about believing there's no chance he's Evie's father or is he mad about the idea of some other guy walking out on us? There's no way to tell, but I just scoff and wave off his question.
"That's really not important. Anyway, back to what I was saying—"
"No. Tell me."
I fold my arms and level him with a look. "Domenic. Just drop it."
His eyes narrow. We stare off momentarily before I hear Evelyn cooing again in the suite and falter, wondering if I should go back to check on her. I hear my mom talking to her, though, and I finally clear my throat and go on as if nothing happened.
"I don't need to stay home from work tomorrow. I only have a couple more things to grab from the car, and the three of us are low-maintenance, so I'm sure we'll be fine until the weekend as far as moving stuff goes. Also, I'd really like to get back to examining those patterns."
"Patterns?"
I nod and tell him about the signs I've been seeing ofonehacker in particular in the system, subtle and skilled. I explain that I haven't been able to pinpoint an actual person despite my best efforts, and then I tell him my newest theory: a dark web hacker. Someone who is damn hard to track because they don'tphysicallyshow up but who knows how to manipulate numbers and coding just right to get money from the casino without tipping it off.
"It's meant to look like ordinary hacking, should it be noticed at all," I explain. He follows me from his mansion to my car, which admittedly looks ten times junkier, parked on his smooth, dark driveway. "But I think it's all digital. No one is actually coming in. They're not hacking a bank account or tripping any security measures, but they're still using the casino as a small source of income. My guess is they're using a few casinos like this to make their bank account nice and fat—which would be an offshore account, probably routed through several places."
Domenic listens to all of this with his lips tight. "Is this something you've had experience with?"
I open the trunk as I frown at him. "As in, have I pulled similar shit? No. I've worked as a hacker, not a deep web thief."
"I meant, is this something you can put a stop to? Is this in your wheelhouse?"
"I want to try. I feel like I'm already getting close. Whoever they are, this person is really good. But I don't think they have a clue I'm on to them yet, so there's that, at least."
As I gather a couple of random things left over in the car, a photo album slips out of my arms to the road. Domenic picks it up and briefly examines the cover, his lips twitching.
"This is you as a baby?"
I glance at it and wrinkle my nose before laughing. "Yeah. I made Porky Pig look like a supermodel, huh? I can't help that I was the chubbiest baby in existence. Don't tease."
He doesn't. Instead, he helps me get anything left in the car and brings it inside, but I insist on him leaving it on the kitchen counter for me to bring into the mother-in-law suite myself. I go drop off the stuff in my arms in one of the guest rooms.
When I return, Domenic still holds the photo album as he stands by the kitchen island. But now he has a deep scowl on his face.
