Page 66 of Filthy Little Regrets

“It’s been a week.”

“Surely you’ve found something. Read some text messages or emails.”

“Mace hasn’t been home.”

Her nails click on the wood. My eye twitches at the tap-tap-tap. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Screw you.”

Paige sighs. “I’m not the enemy, Cassia.”

I scoff. “You’re literally extorting me.” She’s delusional if she thinks she’s the good guy.

“You have it all wrong. I’m offering you a chance at freedom.”

“I’m already free,” I remind her.

“For now.”

Frowning, I look at the folder between us. “Do you know where Ian is?”

“Somewhere safe.”

Why do I have a feeling that means he’s dead? “I want to talk to him.”

Sighing, she shakes her head. “You know I can’t do that. Ian is in protective custody. You want to compromise his safety?”

I press my lips together. Would he really run and hide and leave me to clean up his mess? Doubt swirls inside of me. It’s been years since we were in college together. Maybe he really would turn me in if it meant saving his own ass.

But something still feels off.

She stands and heads for the door. “Find me something.”

“And if I can’t?”

Pausing with her hand on the knob, she tosses me a glance. “See you soon.”

Frustration is a giant knot in my chest by the time Friday rolls around. Orion gave me the day off. I managed to loop the security footage and get into Mace’s home computer, but outside of what happened with NYC Socialite, it’s pretty useless until I have his passwords.

With no progress made, I’ve managed to wear a hole in the rug covering my bedroom floor. The looming deadline has my anxiety at an all-time high. Good thing my prescription is full.

My ears perk when I hear footsteps on the stairs. I storm out of the room, my gaze clashing with Mace’s, and drop my hands to my hips. “Are you avoiding me?”

He reaches the landing, approaching me with guarded eyes. “Did you miss me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. Where have you been?”

“Working.” Mace stops a few feet away from me, slowly tracking down my body with his eyes. For dinner with his family tonight, I’ve put on a modest but flattering green empire-waist dress that I know for a fact looks great with my hair and tits. The little gleam of appreciation in his eyes tells me he agrees.

Seduce. Enjoy. Destroy.

“Work requires you to stay until almost midnight?” In truth, I’m only a little irritated that he’s come home so late every other night this week. It’s not like I want his company, but how am I supposed to get useful information out of him if he’s always gone?

Exhaling, he rubs a hand over his face. “It’s been a long week. Darius is intent on a merger for one of our subsidiaries and a competitor, and we’ve been working on negotiations.”

Their conglomerate is already huge. Do they really need more businesses? I study the dark circles under his eyes and the slight slump of his shoulders. He’s exhausted. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t pushed for me to sleep in the same bed. He’s too tired to fight.

I uncross my arms. “Well, next time, send me a text or something.”

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