Page 49 of Whispered Desire

“Hello, Allison, I hope you're well. Let's start with our usual questions. Are you alone?”

I've always appreciated this inquiry.

It sets the boundaries for the session, especially back when Bailey would be in the next room and could possibly hear my venting to Tasha.

“Yes, I'm alone.”

“And are you safe?”

Safe.

I think about the myriad of changes in my life lately.

A man swept me away to his decadent mansion, the epicenter for his revenge plot against an international crime group known as The Syndicate, but he also ensured I could keep my current therapist, despite state laws.

He's promised to care for me.

Pushed me to break out of my shell.

Am I safe?

“Yes,” I answer with a nod of my head. For the first time, I'm safe in every way—physically, emotionally, and mentally.

“Good. How are you doing?” Tasha relaxes in her ergonomic chair now that she's ascertained I'm okay. “I spoke with your… friend, and he mentioned you moved to Boston?”

Ha!Friend.

Mathias is quite more than such a paltry label. He supports my efforts to find my purpose. He compliments me on my brainsandmy beauty. Which, as the chubby girl known for her smarts, has never even been on my radar.

Is this how people fall in love?

My mouth launches into the story of my whirlwind move to Boston and the new friends I've made—AKA the Blackchapel Bastards—but my heart wonders if I'm on the road to happily ever after.

Am I falling in love?

It's at once an exhilarating yet terrifying possibility.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

MATHIAS

The lines of account numbers blur as my mind drifts to Allie.

She’s upstairs in one of the spare bedrooms meeting virtually with her therapist, and I almost wish I’d gone through with my idea of installing a security feed in the room to hear how the session goes. To learn Allie’s unfiltered thoughts and feelings. But broaching her privacy in that way seemed a step too far.

Especially when she’s used to those supposed to care for her, betraying that trust.

So, instead, I lean my head back, stare at the ceiling, and imagine the conversation happening overhead.

“Are Petit's finances boring you?” Luca drawls from his position in the corner of the study. A stack of manila folders rest beside him as he sifts through the older paperwork that Petit hadn’t digitized yet.

“It’s a tangled web. Outside the legitimate business profits and expenses, the money going toward shell companies bounces around so much, it takes forever to find where it lands.”

Maybe I should check on Allie. Make sure the internet connection is strong enough up there. That the video isn’t buffering to death.

“It landed.” Rafe points over my shoulder where an account in Hong Kong is highlighted in yellow.Where’d he come from?“Looks like SY Shipping is the last stop before Petit transfers funds to his Syndicate buddies.” He grabs the mouse and clicks around on the screen. “I recognize this account as one of Sergei Petrov’s.”

Dmitri and Aleksei’s dad.

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