He held me at arm’s length and cocked a brow at my cleavage before buttoning me back up. “If you were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t want anyone seeing what’s mine.”
“And if you were my boyfriend, neither would I.”
I pulled up his shorts.
He chuckled again and rested his forehead against mine. “Now that you’ve had a taste… does that mean maybe I’ll get to taste you?”
I shrugged, spinning around to get my jacket from the chair where I’d dropped it earlier. “Maybe. Go and win, Mendes, and I might consider it.”
He stood to attention and saluted me. “Yes, ma’am.”
With a grin and a wink, he left.
My knees still weak, I slumped on the leather sofa, heat still simmering in my belly, my lips tingling with the memory of him. Oh god. I’d raised the stakes.
I should have let him have his way with me.
His phone was just lying there, ready for me to send the pictures his friend had taken.
So, knowing his pass-code from our evening strolls around the trailer park, I unlocked it to send those and then take a racy photo of myself.
I was so far down this road, I might as well see where it ended.
But it didn’t open on the camera. It opened on a PDF.
Private Investigation — Mendes. Bacque. 2020.
That was my name. My investigation.
I didn’t even consider that it was private. I scrolled.
There were logs — spreadsheets, scanned customs records, archived flight paths.
Some highlighted.
With my Ciclati credentials. My pass.
Used in the weeks leading up to Pedro getting arrested.
But not Pedro’s name. Not even once.
My lungs tightened. My eyes burned with the need to blink but I couldn’t look away from the evidence.
He’d used my login.
Whoever thehewas.
Whether it was my dad, or… or Pedro.
And my gut twisted to tell me it couldn’t be my dad.
Despite everything, how he disagreed with my choices, how he didn’t stand up for me during the investigation… he wouldn’t have done this to me. He loved me.
But Pedro? Fuck.
My loyalty had meant nothing to him. He’d used it to implicate me.
And Luca knew. It had been sent three hours ago.