Page 43 of Web of Lies
"I have to admit…" I step back, take my gaze off the wall, and shift my attention to Riley. "For someone who's been digging into the Butcher's mess for a while, I thought you'd have more useful information by now."
"He's surprisingly good at covering his tracks." She turns to face me.
"Apparently, he is," I nod.
Her brows knit together in a frown. "How does he manage to stay anonymous?"
I cock my head to the side. "Maybe they're covering for him. After all, he's not just some random cannibal; he has ties to organ trafficking. Along with drugs and animals, it's all part of the same highly profitable business. No one wants to lose that."
Her eyes narrow, a mix of surprise and suspicion. "How… how do you know that much?"
I shrug, trying to keep my tone casual. "My brother is the Dove Killer." Her jaw tightens slightly at the mention of Noah. "Because of him, I met some shady individuals. One thing I noticed is that they all follow the same pattern to stay hidden. Same methods, same networks. It's like a playbook for staying invisible."
"But Noah doesn't know who the Butcher is," she mutters, barely above a whisper, as if her words were meant to be an inside thought.
"What about Hunt?" I raise an eyebrow. "He's deep within the elite circles. He has to know something."
She hesitates, then shifts her gaze away, fidgeting with the edge of her shirt. "The few times I asked him, he shut me down. But if I'm being honest? I think he's lying. He must know more than he lets on."
"That's very possible. Have you looked for clues within the company?"
She scoffs mockingly and meets my gaze again. "Please. As if I hadn't thought of that. I've dug through everything I could get my hands on. But there's nothing."
"What about his private devices?"
She blinks rapidly, clearly caught off guard, as if she's just realized the possibility. Behind her eyes, I can almost see the gears turning with surprise, calculation, and maybe a touch of hesitation.
"Hisprivate?" She repeats after me. "No, I don't have access to those. They're protected separately because he manages family affairs through them. Even though I'm the head of IT, I'm completely shut out. They can only be accessed with his direct permission."
"So, there's a chance that he could hide something on them?"
"Yes," she says, dragging out each word with hesitation. "But why would he?"
"If he's connected to the Butcher, wouldn't it be smarter to keep him out of company affairs?"
She falls silent, her lips pressing into a thin line as she meets my gaze. Her shoulders stiffen, and she knows I'm right. Yet, she's already looking for an excuse for him. "It's just a suggestion," I say, lowering my voice. "But is there a way to hack into his devices?"
"There is," she says under her breath. "But he'd notice. I'm sure he would. I don't want to upset him." She lowers her head, avoiding my gaze.
Of course, she doesn't want to upset him. She cares deeply what Hunt thinks of her and wants his approval more than anything. This kind of loyalty to one person is dangerous because it makes someone an easy target for manipulation.
Clearly, tattooing my name on her thigh was not enough to erase her obsession with the man from her mind. Jealousy claws at me, hot and bitter, but I push those feelings aside. Now is not the time to spiral and make this about me. I have Riley where I want her. She's talking to me about her investigation, and she'll eventually tell me the reason behind it. As much as I want to believe her when she says this is just fascination, something isn't adding up.
I take a deep breath and put on a mask. "All right." A smirk spreads across my face, and I raise an eyebrow. "You wouldn't want to upset your beloved boss." She shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "You really want to please your crush," I say, watching her closely.
"God, no," she blurts out, her face flushing. "He's like a father to me."
"Well, daddy issues are a thing, sweetheart."
"Shut up." She snorts. "But I do have an idea," she says after a moment, her voice taking on a more serious tone.
"Oh?" I perk up and lift an eyebrow.
"He usually leaves his laptop at the office," she says in a quiet voice, as if thinking out loud. "At night, I could get to it without anyone noticing. Even him."
Nowthatgets my attention. Breaking into that asshole's office? Sounds like something right up my alley. "So instead of accessing it remotely, you're going straight for the device?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual, though a grin tugs at the corners of my lips.
She nods. "Exactly. That way, there's no trace. No digital footprint."
