Page 28 of Web of Lies
I could tell her the truth about what is going on. She would never judge what I'm doing. But, having been raised by this woman and knowing all her little quirks, I'm aware it isn't a smart decision. It would only pique her curiosity, and once that happens, there's no stopping her. I love my mom, but she has absolutely no filter and no sense of boundaries. That's probably where I got it from.
Me:Yes. I just need sleep.
Mom:Okay, but if you need anything, let me know.
Me:Always. Need to go now. Love you.
I send my last text and shove my phone back into the inside pocket of my jacket. My attention shifts back to my navigation system, where Riley's GPS location is marked by a red dot,showing that she is still at work. She usually starts her day between nine and ten a.m. and leaves between five and six p.m., but it is past eight by now, and she is still here. While she works the occasional odd hour of overtime, she tries to limit it as much as possible. At least I know she's safe at the office. Every door in this building is bulletproof, and no one can get in without a registered keycard.
My gaze shoots up when a black car with tinted windows pulls up to the front of the building. A man in a black suit gets out of the driver's seat, walks around the hood of the car, and then pulls open the back door.
I furrow my brows at the sight of none other than Michael Hunt himself stepping through the tall sliding glass doors, accompanied by a pretty blonde woman in a wheelchair who is laughing at something the bastard said.
I cannot stand this man. All the women who work for him, including Riley, look at him with adoration as if he were their knight in shining armor. And even Evelyn speaks highly of him. But they refuse to see past the mask he wears. He plays the caring father figure, but deep down, he does everything for his own benefit, and they're all just puppets in his game.
They're engaged in conversation when it is briefly interrupted by the man standing by the car, who joins their chat. Moments later, another woman rushes out of the office building and reaches for the handgrips of the wheelchair. The blonde woman tilts her head and beams up at her. The two then bid their farewells and turn to leave, leaving Hunt and the driver alone.
The two men remain engaged in their conversation, showing no interest in leaving until the door slides open once again. My heart rate quickens, and the air gets knocked out of my lungs at the sight of Riley stepping out. Her beautiful copper hair is done in a loose updo, with curly strands framing her face in a way that makes her look effortlessly elegant. She'swearing a shimmering, strapless, navy-green dress that clings to every curve. The low neckline draws attention straight to her prominent, mouthwatering cleavage, while the skirt falls all the way to her ankles, but a long slit up one side reveals her right leg with every step. Matching strappy high-heeled sandals complete the look. She looks absolutely breathtaking. And yet… nothing like her.
My stomach churns with nausea as my gaze drops to the bare skin of her arms, her collarbone, her back, smooth and untouched. Every inch of ink, every web and spider that marks her skin is covered. That's not my Riley; that's someone I don't recognize.
Acidic fury bubbles in my gut, burning its way up my throat as I watch her walk straight to Hunt. He offers her his arm, and she takes it without hesitation, her fingers slipping into the crook of his elbow while a broad, genuine smile stretches across her face.
My jaw clenches so hard my molars grind together. My fists tighten at my sides, every muscle in my body going rigid. I fucking knew something was going on between them. And here they are, playing dress-up, going on some fancy, fucked-up date.
She always said she hated this kind of shit. Fancy dresses. Empty formalities. The people. Thefakeness. So why does she look so damn comfortable now?
My chest tightens, fury clenching like a fist around my ribs. My vision tunnels, locking on her standing just a little too close to him with a soft tilt of her head toward him as they talk.
My chest heaves in a frantic rhythm while my focus remains on them as Hunt helps Riley settle into the car before climbing in after her. The driver rounds the hood and slides into the driver's seat. Soon after, the engine roars to life, and the car takes off.
My thoughts scatter and collide, tripping over each other in an irrational and ugly way. I spiral faster than I can stop, and astorm of jealous noise drowns out reason, making room for dark, violent, and possessive thoughts that are impossible to ignore.
Mine. Riley is mine. And I'll make damn sure everyone knows it, even if I have to carve it into her skin.
Chapter 15
Riley
I'm sitting in my office, clicking through the step-by-step plan for tonight's job. It's a simple hack; one we've done a dozen times before. Get close to the target, use an NFC skimmer to pull the data from their personal device, logins, credentials, anything we can use. Normally, I prefer the safety of my home or my office, far away from any kind of real-world risk, hacking comfortably from a distance. But sometimes, you've got to get close. Sometimes, the only way in… is in person.
Maybe that’s what I need right now. Ever since I lost control with the Butcher, I haven’t felt like myself. There’s a hollow pit inside me whispering that I’m weak and that I can’t handle this life anymore. But this job is simple and straightforward—something I have successfully done before.
My eyes snap to the intercom phone on my desk when it suddenly rings. I reach for the receiver and lift it to my ear. "Yes?"
"Hey, Riley," Hannah's voice calls from the other end.
"Hannah? You're still here?" I ask, unable to hide the surprise in my voice. I glance at the clock on my desktop, which reads nearly eight p.m.
A soft chuckle filters through the speaker. "On a night like today, yes. Mr. Hunt wants to know if you're ready to get going."
"I am," I say, clicking through the steps to shut down my computer. "I'll check myself over and meet him in front of the building in fifteen minutes."
"Perfect. I'll let him know. Thank you."
"Thanks, " I say, putting the phone down.
I grab my purse and my laptop bag, shoving everything I need into it. I push my chair back and stand up. Then, I slip into my heels, tighten the straps, and leave my office to head to the restroom.
