Page 27 of Forbidden Pawn

But that’s not the worst part. During the meeting, it became clear that someone’s been feeding him false information. Dominic and I are suspecting a mole in our own ranks. The thought twists in my gut, but I don’t want to believe it. I’m careful about the men I work with, and my circle is small. There were only seven people at the meeting, including Dominic. All trusted. Or so I thought. Now I need to do another background check on every single one of them, even though I still refuse to believe that any of them could be to blame. However, it could be someone they’re associated with, someone working in their offices, their secretaries, lovers, or some low-life henchmen they commissioned.

Whoever it is, we will find him.

I take another sip of bourbon, the burn doing little to ease the tension that’s settled in my chest. I’ll deal with it. But the idea of betrayal, of someone working against me from within, pisses me off more than I care to admit.

And it doesn’t help that the increased scrutiny from financial regulators is putting even more pressure on my operation. Dominic’s been warning me about potential audits coming in, about the need to tighten compliance to cover our tracks. Between that and the potential leak, the walls are closing in. But I’ll be damned if I end up in jail.

I glance back at Grace, watching as she kneels in the dirt. I’m not sure what her game is yet, but if she really is up to something, I’ll find out. There was a moment when I wondered whether she could be the mole who is endangering our entire operation, but I quickly dismissed the idea. There’s no way she knows anything, and there’s no way for her to communicate with the outside world. But I still need to keep my eyes open with her.

I walk over to the window, watching her move gracefully among the flower beds. The sun is setting, casting a soft orange glow over the garden, making the colors shift and deepen. The whole scene is beautiful. And so is she.

Kneeling on the ground, pulling at weeds or tending to the flowers, Grace looks so different from the girl who was teasing me in the pool just a few days ago. She’s been quiet since then, not trying anything stupid, not causing any trouble. She didn’t even make a sound during my meeting, didn’t try to eavesdrop. She stayed in her room, quiet as a mouse, not hammering against the door like I feared she might. And when I unlocked the door and told her, she could go out to the garden, she sat on the edge of her bed in a demure position, a kiss of fear visible in her big eyes when she looked at me. It was the first time she looked and behaved like the prisoner she is.

Maybe I was too hard on her. Maybe she really is just trying to survive this mess and make the best of her situation.

She’s been here for almost a week, and there hasn’t been a single word from her brothers. No updates, no negotiations—nothing. I’d expected some kind of move from them by now, butit looks like they don’t care. That can’t feel good for her, being used as a pawn by her own family. Maybe she’s trying to hook up with me to get back at them? She’s only nineteen years old. She might just be acting out. Besides, girls get horny, too. And I’m aware of the effect I have on women.

Still, I know she’s hiding something, but for now, I can’t figure out what that might be. I take another long drink, pushing the doubts away.

Fuck it. After the day I’ve had, I could use a little distraction.

I put the glass down and step outside. The air is warm, and the fading sunlight feels good on my skin. As I walk toward her, she looks up from her work, and to my surprise, she smiles. Not that smirk she gave me in the pool, but a friendly and welcoming smile, like a peace offering. And I’m struck again by how damn pretty she is.

“Thought I’d come see how my prisoner is holding up,” I say, trying to sound casual, but even I can hear the roughness in my voice.

Her smile softens a little, but it stays in place.

“It’s not so bad out here,” she says, looking around at the garden. “Better than being stuck inside all day.”

I can’t help but watch her, the way the evening light plays on her skin, making her seem almost... gentle. Innocent. I take a breath and feel something stir inside me, something that has no business being there.

“Mind some company?” I ask, and for a moment, I forget why she’s here.

She casts me a look that’s a blend of worry and confusion as I kneel next to her.

“Um, sure,” she says, her voice wary. “I… I wasn’t trying to run away, you know?”

I look at her, unsure how to respond. Does she think I’m here to keep tabs on her? To watch her like a security guard?

“I know,” I say. “It would be pointless, anyway. I mean, where would you even run?”

I extend my arm in a wide gesture across the garden and the green landscape behind. “There’s nothing out here for miles, nowhere for you to hide.”

“I’m aware,” she says, before she turns her attention back to the flowerbed before us. “And like I said, I don’t plan on running anywhere. I would feel too bad leaving this garden behind.”

She looks up at me and gives me a little wink that causes my heart to stutter for a second.

“Still pulling out weeds, huh?” I say, trying to push the weird feeling inside my chest aside.

“It’s quite a lot,” she says, before she points out the flower beds she’s cleared and the progress she’s made.

I listen, watching the way her hands move as she gestures, dirt smudged on her fingers, just like I remember my mother’s fingers. She spent so much time digging through dirt that the tips of her fingers never seemed to be clean, no matter how often she washed her hands.

“I think I’ve almost finished this section,” Grace says, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not bad for someone who’s never gardened before, right?”

I nod, trying to relax into the moment. It’s nice, almost too nice. For a second, I let myself imagine that this is something normal, just two people chatting about gardening.

Then she asks, her tone casual but her eyes watching me closely: “How did your meeting go?”

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