Page 115 of The Protégé

“Exactly.” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “The car accidents I’d been investigating were connected to the scams too.”

I remembered spotting Elena on the day an SUV had smashed into an eight-wheeler.

“But I don’t really understand how it works,” she said. “Does the banker route the money to his own account?”

“There are many ways to hide it so that it doesn’t seem like the bank is behind it. They need to keep it safe from probing eyes like tax audits, the media, and such. It’s not that hard to hide money if you know how to do it.”

“You know how?” she asked, but then lifted a hand. “Never mind. I’m talking to the King of Thievery here.” She leveled her brown eyes at me. “My thief knows all the secrets, right?”

I smiled, loving that she accepted all of me.

“I can share some of those secrets with you.” Leaning in, I nuzzled her neck, inhaling her delicious scent. “For a price.”

Laughing, she squirmed away. “I don’t think I can afford your asking price,sir.”

“Keep calling me sir, and I’ll give you a freebie.”

“Stop it.” Elena shoved me away. “We’re having a serious conversation here. We need to sort this out before more people die. I want to give the family the justice they deserve.” She rattled off several bank names. “Stockholm Bank is from Sweden. Have you heard of it?”

“Yeah. I’ll look into it,” I said. “Why don’t you start the article for Musepaper? Call itBank Forcing People to SuicideorLife Insurance Scam from Banks Around the World. Make this article be the next breaking news before any other news outlet.”

“But Musepaper is just an online newspaper,” she said.

“That’s okay. Show the world that a small company can achieve something the giants can’t. Don’t forget to introduce Madame Sarcasm to the Musepaper.”

She stared at me in wonder. “I’m amazed at how fast your mind works.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice. I want you to focus on Musepaper going forward. You’ve done enough for The Condor. Thanks for your help.”

“You’re welcome.” She twisted her lips. “I guess this means my contract is up. We won’t be working together anymore.”

“Says who?” I spun her chair to face me. “I’m an investor in Musepaper, remember? Starting tomorrow, you’re getting paid to work on your article.”

Her eyes brightened. “But nothing’s been confirmed yet.”

“The terms of my interest will be in your inbox by the end of the day tomorrow. Review them. Let me know if you want anything revised.”

“I suppose I don’t need to send out my resume now.”

“No, you don’t. Do what you love and don’t worry about the financial portion of it. Has your uncle reached out to you after that day at your mother’s house?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Good. If he does, I want to know. I’m taking care of your debt—which shouldn’t have been a debt to begin with.”

She sighed. “You don’t have to take on my burden. It makes me feel guilty. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you.”

“If I don’t take care of the woman I love, then who should I take care of?” The words came out easily, naturally. I’d debated on when I should tell her, but I realized life was too short, and I didn’t want to miss the chance to let her know how I felt. This moment was as good as any other moment. The sooner she knew, the sooner she didn’t have to question my actions.

Elena sucked in a breath, stared at me for a long moment, and then she smiled. I could see a variety of emotions churning in her eyes, starting with surprise, hope, excitement, confusion on how to respond, and the relief of settling on sarcasm.

“What did you say,Sir Slingshot?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she got off her seat to settle onto my lap. “Say it again.”

“I love you.” I cupped her behind, shifting her so she could feel my cock pulsing for her. “You’re like a nebula, bright and colorful in my dark sky. On my darkest days, all I have to do isthink of you and I see a way out. You make the darkness seem insignificant because you exist. You remind me of the wonders of the universe—that there’s something sacred, mystical, and inexpressible. I feel so much in my heart, but I can’t fully express it in words.”

“Orion . . .” A stream of tears slid down her beautiful face. “You’re doing a fine job expressing your feelings. When did you get so poetic?”

I caught the gleaming stream with my knuckle. “When you lured me with your brooch.”

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