Page 68 of Wicked Little Game
Apart from that, I decide to do a bit of research tomorrow. Early in the morning, when Ruby is still deep asleep.
Somehow, I put off breaking into her father’s office until now. She caught me once, and after that, I didn’t try it anymore.
We got a lot of intel after her date at the country club, and a small part of me doesn’t want to get into his office, knowing that I’d probably find enough stuff that would justify ending this mission right there and then.
But Rockwell started asking too many questions, and I started to run out of good excuses. Apart from that, I can’t hold off on this forever. Sooner or later, I have to get in there. And eventually, I have to get my ass out of this house, but that’s a bridge I cross when I get to it.
When I leave my room the next morning, I stop in front of Ruby’s door to make sure that there’s no sound coming from inside. She seems to be asleep, the little sloth.
Since this isn’t the first time I’ve tried to open the lock on her father's office door, I was clever enough to bring one of the lock picks from my room. A second later, I’m standing in his spacious office.
It looks just like I imagined it, maybe even worse. A supervillain fantasy that came to life, with a massive redwoodtable in the back end of the room, the stale smell of cigars still lingering in the air.
The Chesterfield couch that stands in front of the windows looks vintage and expensive, and I can’t help but imagine how Ruby’s body would look bent over the armrest.
As if this isn’t the last place in this house where I should fuck her.
Who am I kidding, there’s no place in this house where I should fuck her, no place in this universe where it would be a good idea, but my resolve, or the tiny slivers that are left of it, weaken with every passing day. Especially after we went out to eat.
I’ve given her too much freedom, allowed her to get too close to me.
But back to the task at hand, because I didn’t break into this room to daydream about Ruby. I can do that in my room. It would certainly be less dangerous.
My eyes land on a huge elephant tusk mount that stands on the shelf behind the desk. I scoff, not surprised about her father having an affinity for hunting down endangered species.
Even here, in this room that reeks of his personality, there isn’t a single picture of Ruby. While he kept up the sleazy but nice CEO act the few times I interacted with him, my research made it obvious that he is anything but a good man. Again, not really surprising, otherwise he wouldn’t have been on our radar for years.
The chair behind the desk is also a Chesterfield. It’s damn comfortable and I think Mr. Barron’s choice of furniture is one of the few things I have to agree with.
Carefully, I run my fingers over the drawers of his desk before I open the first one. It’s empty apart from a few cigars that roll around in it. Makes me wonder if he does anything apart from smoking in this office. Probably not.
The next three drawers are also empty, and that’sa bad sign. There’s still the possibility that he stores the important stuff elsewhere, or maybe he’s just against paper waste and keeps everything digitized.
But maybe I just don’t want to think about the other option. That he smelled a rat and got rid of any evidence the last time he was here.
Whatever it is, I have to inform Rockwell. A phone call I’m not looking forward to.
Just when I’m ready to let frustration take over, the last drawer catches my attention. While I was sure that this one would be another dead end, it seems like it isn’t. It’s harder to open, as if something is stuck, but with a bit of force, I manage to yank it open. Unfortunately, I’m also louder than I should be.
My eyes land on a manila folder, just like the ones we use. With a suppressed grin, I think about how there should be negotiations to decide who’s allowed to use which folder color.
Red for organ trafficking, green for drug trade, maybe gray for tax evasion.
Right in the second I open the folder, I hear a sound that I absolutely don’t want to hear right now.
“Sam?”
Ruby’s voice echoes through the house and from the sound of her footsteps, it seems as if she’s heading right down the stairs.
With the way the office is located, there’s no way for me to hush out of this room without her seeing me. Years of military training leave my body for a moment as I sit there, frozen like a statue. My whole body is tense, every atom in me waiting for the horrible drama that’s going to unfold.
I expect tons of yelling, maybe a slap, and the possibility of having to chain Ruby up somewhere to keep her from warning her father.
Well, it’s that or a good excuse.
Or a damn good distraction.
“Wanna tell me what you are doing in here?” Ruby asks with a raised eyebrow, standing in the doorway. Slowly, she closes the door behind her.
