Page 15 of The Assassin's Captive
I need answers. About the sealed court filings. About her sources. About how much she knows and who she's shared it with. The questions I should have asked last night instead of losing myself in her touch. The interrogation that should have taken place before I allowed myself to want her.
Emilio's voice echoes in my head.Extract everything she knows, then eliminate her.
The coffee finishes brewing, and I pour myself a cup, black and bitter. I take a seat at the kitchen table, positioning myself where I can see the bedroom doorway as I sip my bitter brew. The morning light grows stronger as the sun continues to rise, painting the apartment walls with the expert touch of a master artist.
I hear her stir before I see her—a soft murmur, the rustle of sheets. She appears in the doorway moments later, wrapped in one of my shirts, her hair tousled from sleep. She blinks against the light, disoriented.
"Good morning," she says, her voice husky. She runs a hand through her hair, and the gesture is so natural, so intimate, that my chest tightens.
"Morning." I gesture to the coffee maker. "There's more if you want it."
She nods, padding across the kitchen to pour herself a cup. I watch her move, the way the shirt falls to mid-thigh, the way she adds cream to her coffee with care not to pour too much. When she turns back to me, there's a softness in her expression that makes me want to reach for her.
Instead, I stay seated, my hands wrapped around my mug.
"Sleep well?" I ask.
"Better than I have in weeks." She settles into the chair across from me, curling her legs beneath her. "Your bed is comfortable."
"Good." I take a sip of coffee, using the motion to buy myself time. "I wanted to talk to you about your work."
Her brow furrows. "My work?"
"The cases you're building. The ones targeting organized crime." I keep my voice neutral and conversational. It's not easy to shift into interrogation mode when she's so goddamn sexy, but it's my job. I can't think about the taste of her moisture on my tongue or the feel of her tits crushed against my chest. "Specifically, the sealed court filings you've been accessing."
She tilts her head, studying me. "That's an interesting topic for pillow talk."
"I'm curious about your methods. How you gather information. Who your sources are."
"Lorenzo." She sets down her coffee cup, and I can see the wheels turning in her mind. "Why are you asking me this?"
"Professional interest."
"In what? Legal strategy?" Her laugh is a sharp sound and I can tell she's steeling herself for my pressure. It's dawning on her slowly, but when the sun is up, you can't hide it. "I don't think so."
I lean forward, resting my forearms on the table. "The Costa syndicate—how much do you know about their operations?"
The question snakes its way into her mind and I watch her face change. The sleepy softness disappears, replaced by the sharp intelligence I saw in her eyes at the restaurant. She's putting pieces together, connecting dots I hoped would take a bit longer to materialize.
"This is about work," she says slowly. "This whole thing… Last night."
"Answer the question, Serena."
"I don't think I will." She stands, the chair scraping against the floor. "I think I need to go."
"Sit down," I bark as she turns to go, leaving her coffee on the table.
"Excuse me?" she snaps, turning over her shoulder, but she stops.
"I said sit down." I don't raise my voice, but something in my tone makes her freeze. "We're not finished talking."
She stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the exact second she realizes who I am—what I am. The color drains from her face, but she doesn't sit.
"The sealed files," I continue. "The ones from the financial crimes division. You've been accessing them regularly. What did you find?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Serena is flustered, eyes darting around the room like she's looking for a fast exit. She won't find one.
"Don't lie to me." I stand, and she takes an automatic step back. "Money laundering. Shell companies. Offshore accounts. You've been building a case, piece by piece. Who's helping you?"
