Page 19 of His Pretty Little Thief

“How’d you like to help make sure they burn. How’d you like to make sure they never send another girl out into this city to sleep with a man she doesn’t know and may very well not at all want to sleep with, because she has nowhere else to go for survival.”

A cloud of red sweeps over her face, her lips a thin, tight line as she nods.

“What can I do?”

“I just need your phone, and that fucking ‘sample’ cup they gave you.”

“And this will shut them down?”

I smile tightly. “Simone, this will bury them.”

She nods, her face hardened.

“Let’s do this.”

Within minutes, I’ve got my substantial law team who I’ve already had on-call on the phone and ready to go to war. My forensic guy, a former CIA hacker-type, rings my penthouse doorbell within ten minutes, laptop already open and ready to make copies of Simone’s cell phone records. I’ve had my hunches about the little “collection cups” The Agency gives the girls, since they’re way more high-tech than just a plastic jar. And sure enough, my forensic guy confirms that there’s a microchip and tracking device embedded in the screw-top, which can be reverse-traced.

I grin. Oh, these assholes are going down. By the time my forensic guy leaves and I get off the phone with my army of lawyers, not to mention my guy in the District Attorney’s office, I know these Agency motherfuckers are going to be in chains within the hour.

This isn’t just about me, either. I have a couple of friends in my little circle of men of my means who’ve also been taken by them, and you can be damn sure they’ll be civilly suing the shit out of The Agency, not to mention tracking down where their damn sperm went.

But for now, after my guy leaves and after I finish my calls, I can take a breather. For now, we’ve won the battle while we prepare for war.

I make my way to the kitchen, where Simone is wrapped in a big terrycloth robe of mine, sipping tea at the counter. She looks up as I walk over, a small frown on her beautiful face.

“What is it, love?”

She looks down.

“You set this all up, didn’t you?”

I won’t lie to her. Ever.

“I did.”

“How did you know it’d be me who they sent for you?”

I smile. “I knew. I knew because I got Bianca the job.”

Her eyes snap to mine, her mouth opening wide.

“What?”

“And I knew she’d get you involved.”

Simone stares at me, doubt shadowing her face.

“Knox, I don’t—I mean…” she shakes her head, her brow furrowing. “I don’t under—”

“A month ago,” I say quietly as I move into her, sweeping her into my arms.

“I went to a coffee shop. Not my normal one. One outside my neighborhood. I walked in, I ordered a cappuccino from this surly hipster with a beard and shitty tattoos, and I was fully prepared to go on with the rest of my life, when I happened to look up, and see the girl making my drink.”

She freezes in my arms, and slowly, she lifts her head, bewilderment on her face.

“Knox…”

“I saw you, Simone. I saw you, and my entire fucking world just shifted on its axis. I saw you, and I knew I was done for.”

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