Page 46 of Filthy Little Regrets

My hackles rise, but I keep my customer service face inplace. Is this chick really here to get a story? Did all those social media warriors finally figure out where I work?

“I’m not sure I can help you?—”

“I think you can,” she says, eyes sharpening. The nervousness from earlier evaporates, and suddenly, a shrewd businesswoman stands before me. But even that doesn’t feel quite right. Something tells me she’s not in finance.

The fine hairs on the back of my neck rise. “What was your name again?”

“Paige.” She grabs something from her back pocket. “Paige Smith.” The little black wallet she draws up has my stomach turning. Fuck. Her fingers slip between the two flaps with practiced ease. My throat goes dry as she shows me what’s inside—it’s not a fun surprise.

United States Department of Justice. FederalBureau of Investigations. Agent Smith.

She’s kept the wallet at her hip, out of sight of the camera. Smart bitch. Sheshuts the holder before I can check her badge number. “Let’s have a chat.”

How about, no.

“Do I need a lawyer?”

She tips her head, but I’m not fooled by her fake innocence. “Do you think you need one? We should take a seat before your friend out there gets suspicious.”

Conscious of the camera in the corner of the room, I take my seat and keep a pleasant look on my face. “What do you want?”

She looks serene when she says, “Mace Astor.”

To anyone watching, it would look like a typical exchange, but there’s an undercurrent of annoyance in both our tones. We’ve barely met, but she doesn’t like me and I don’t like her. Glad we’re on the same page.

My forehead wrinkles. “So go talk to him.” What does she think I can do?

She smirks, but it’s not attractive. It’s predatory. “No, I think you’ll do just fine. What do you know about Ian Hargrove?”

My jaw clenches. Fucking Ian. “Not a lot.”

She hums. “But you do know about a wire transfer, don’t you?”

Deny. Deny. Deny. “No.” This is one lie I’m perfectly content to tell.

“Well, you should know, even if you can’t remember, that we were able to track the wire transfer to you.”

“Bullshit.” There are IP bouncers for a reason.

Sighing, she glances around the space. “Orion has a nice place. How long have you been working here?”

Step one, make them think you’re their friend. Step two, arrest them. Nice try, Paige, but I already have enough friends. I definitely don’t need one that wears a badge.

“Long enough. Is that all?”

Her gaze cuts to me. “Ian gave you up. We have enough to put you in prison for a long time, Cassia.”

My breath stutters, but I refuse to acknowledge any of what she’s said, because that may as well be admitting guilt.

“But we don’t want you,” she continues, searching my face. “Help us get Mace.”

My stomach churns. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You realize, with everything we’ve found, Rose will be found guilty, too, right?”

Lines deepen on my forehead. What evidence do they have against Rose? I helped her last year with something,but that was at my apartment and certainly not enough to warrant prison. She couldn’t know about...

“Ryker Williams and Rayce Lions, huh?” Paige murmurs. “Strangely enough, we were looking into their relationship with Joseph Miller, who ironically died a month before they disappeared.”

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