Page 18 of Bitter Arrangement

I was a pretty good thief for a little while.

I start running again, positive that I’m making the right choice.

Chapter7

Alexan

One week until the wedding.

I stareat my computer screen. Data scrolls through my LLM model, and the AI starts looking for patterns. It’s taking a while, so I switch away to a map of the surrounding neighborhood studded by little red dots.

According to the dossier Fong gave me, the watch was on Iron Head’s person starting at six that morning until midnight that evening when he realized it was missing. He backtracked, but he’d been to at least half a dozen meetings during that time. The last few pings were all only partial hits and could’ve been at any of his locations between four and ten that evening. Then the watch went silent and hasn’t made contact since.

The LLM finishes its analysis, but there’s nothing. It just scraped every new auction listing online in the last two days for any watches that match the image Iron Head provided of the object I’m looking for, but there are only a bunch of partial matches. Whoever took the thing isn’t trying to sell it, at least nowhere public.

It’s more than a little frustrating. I’ve been at this for a week and hit dead end after dead end, and there’s only one little distraction keeping me sane through it all.

Riley jogs across the street, and I put my car into gear.

I noticed her pretty early on. It turns out that Iron Head has some kind of potential deal going on with the McGraths. He was over at Riley’s place having dinner with her father the night the watch disappeared, and her house is somewhere in the center of my search location.

Which means I get to study her habits.

Like how every morning around nine she goes for a jog down the block, toward the harbor, and into a little park. She makes three loops around the path there before heading back home for a total of six miles at a pace of around eight minutes per mile. Then she spends a few minutes stretching out front in the sun, her beautiful auburn hair shining, sweat sheening her pale skin.

My future wife is fucking flexible.

Today, she’s right on track for her usual average. I find a spot near the park and get out of my car. I take a leisurely walk down into the grass, angling for a group of trees overlooking a pedestrian bridge. She passes this way on all of her laps before she heads back home, and it’s the perfect spot to stay hidden.

I’m thinking about the watch as I settle in to wait for a glimpse of my future wife.

I can understand now why Iron Head passed it off to me. Maybe he could’ve used his own team for this incredibly frustrating wild goose chase, but that would be a waste of resources. Instead, better to outsource it to some fucking idiot willing to burn hours hunting for something that’s probably long gone by now.

Whoever took the watch probably deactivated the transmitter. I’m willing to bet good money it’s somewhere in Asia or Europe being cracked by a team of talented hackers.

But I still have to try. Mantis isn’t going to accept failure. I’m barely keeping myself calm as Riley comes into view, her hair streaming behind her, running along at a steady pace. Long, athletic legs, great thighs, fantastic ass. She’s wearing a very loose crop top today, one that barely covers her sports bra, and I feel a strange burning possessiveness in my chest. Does she really need to show off that much of her body?

Heads turn when she runs past, but all that skin ismine.

Or it will be mine soon.

I still don’t want to marry her. This was never my idea. But when Arsen came to me personally and made it clear that I was his first choice for this match, I couldn’t turn him down. When thepatronmakes a request, a good soldier jumps to obey. And I’ve been nothing but loyal all these days.

They’ve rewarded me. Tigran especially has pulled me up through the ranks and given me more and more responsibilities and bigger and bigger paychecks.

But I can’t help feeling a little frustrated by the situation.

I stare down at the path, waiting for her to show. At this point, I’m so used to her pace that I can anticipate when she’ll show up. Excitement fills my stomach and makes my mouth water. I still obsess over the memory of her spreading her legs in my bed and moaning my name while wearing my shirt.

“Hey, creep, why are you always?—”

I turn around, my mouth falling open in surprise.

Riley’s standing a few feet away, looking just as shocked as I am.

Recognition blooms in her face. She’s glistening with sweat and looking fucking glorious. My future wife is petite but athletic with a fantastic figure, full lips, thick hair, and a sloping little nose. Irish through and through.

“Hello, Riley,” I say, trying not to break out into a massive smile.

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