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He clears his throat. “Sir, I was running routine checks on the day’s security footage when I noticed something in the feed.”
“Go on.”
“A white van appeared around 6:16 P.M. No plates. A package was thrown from the passenger side window right onto the property.”
I narrow my eyes. “It has to be Sobakin.”
“Gotta be, right?” he agrees. “The thing is, I had the boys comb through the gardens in search of this package and they came up empty. I looked myself and—nothing.”
I frown. “That makes no sense. It has to be on the grounds somewhere.”
“I’m not sure how, but this package seems to have disappeared into thin—”
“Wait,” I snap as my voice cuts through the air like a freshly sharpened blade. “Where was the package thrown?”
“Right by the southwestern wall,pakhan.”
I grit my teeth.I fucking knew it.
Alyssa was lying to me about the sex toys. The thought that she could be on Boris Sobakin’s payroll crosses my mind again. But with her wide-eyed innocence… I just can’t see it. No one’sthatgood an actress.
“I’ve arranged for another search—”
“Don’t bother. I know where it is.” I move past him and make a beeline for the shack cowering in the shadows of my mansion. My face sours as I charge toward it.
When I reach the stoop, I pound on Alyssa’s door and wait for her to answer. The lights are on inside, so she must be home.A package.The fuck is Sobakin throwing a package at my house for? And what role does Alyssa have to play in all this? Why would she steal it? Who is she working for?
I’ve heard the littlekiskascream once.
Let’s see how she screams under different circumstances.
Still no answer. I knock again. This time, a little louder, a little more insistent. I wonder if she’s screening me out. This fly might be better caught with honey than with vinegar.
I send a quick text to Detective Vincent Imbroglio, one of my plants in the LAPD.Need a favor at the little shack next to my place. Keep your uniform on.
The message goes through right before Alyssa opens the door. She’s changed into a tight pair of jeans and a white tank top. Her blonde hair flows down her shoulders, almost reaching her breasts, and those cerulean eyes of hers are wide and rippling with emotion.
Curiosity? Unease? Fear?
Only time will tell.
She doesn’t exactly look happy to see me. “Hey,” she replies uncertainly. “Is, uh, something wrong?”
I look past her into her cramped, messy living room. I’m not about to fuck up this extraction by going in guns blazing.Honey, not vinegar.
“First off, I want to apologize.”
She flinches. “For what?”
“I might have forgotten my manners for a bit. I don’t usually fuck my guests on the dining room table.”
She goes pink instantly and the effect is… well, “adorable” is the only word for it. Her rosy cheeks in combination with that golden hair and those translucent blue irises are making me hard all over again.
Focus, asshole.
“Don’t worry,” she mumbles. “I’m not gonna be a problem.”
That takes me off-guard. Of all the responses I’d been expecting, that certainly wasn’t one. “Why would I worry?”
