Page 21 of Ruthless Obsession
I stop beside my bike and pull the spare helmet over her head.
“I thought we were riding in the car.”
“Nope. We’re taking my Harley.” I slide on my green aviators.
Her gaze drifts over the black and burgundy bike. “It’s beautiful.”
The smile on her face rises, then falters.
“What’s wrong?”
She chokes back the tears. “I miss riding my Ducati. She’s candy apple red.”
I tug my helmet on. “Where’s your bike?”
“At my parents’. I haven’t ridden it since...” She shakes her head.
“I won’t let you keep hiding shit from me. You’ve got one week to spill your guts, or I’ll rip your past to shreds.”
Her eyes narrow and her fists ball at her sides. “You wouldn’t.”
“I would, Sophie.” I swing a leg over the bike. “Get on.”
Once she’s behind me, I tug her arms around my waist. “I drive crazy, so hold on tight.”
I rev the engine and peel out of the lot.
“Fuck!” she yells behind me.
I laugh. Maybe the ride will shake some of the sadness out of her.
Twenty minutes later, I tap a button on my bike, and the black wrought-iron gates open.
“Who lives here?” she asks.
I don’t answer. Instead, I press another button, and one of the six garage doors rolls up.
“Does a shady rich guy live here?” she pushes.
We coast into the garage, and I kill the engine. “The guy who lives here isn’t shady.”
“Sure,” she mutters as she pulls off her helmet, eyes sweeping over the luxury cars lining the space.
I hold open the door to the mudroom. “We won’t be here long. I’ve got a meeting. My assistant who doubles as my stylist will bring a rack of clothes. Pick a dress that says you belong at a business meeting.”
She doesn’t ask questions Just nods.
I take her hand and lead her down the hall to my office. Her eyes linger on the abstract paintings lining the walls.
When I open the office door, her jaw drops. “What the hell is this?”
I glance at the bulletin board full of pinned surveillance photos and intel.
“My target,” I say. “Your ex-boyfriend.”
CHAPTER FOUR
SOPHIE
