Page 136 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
Although his eyes show his apprehension, an uneasy smile forms on his face, silencing some of my uncertainty. He runs his sweat-slicked hands down his pants. Despite it being a crisp winter morning, the air surrounding us is stifling.
Once his hands are free of sweat, Brandon jerks his head to Hugo, who is pretending not to watch our exchange from Brandon’s car. “Do you trust him?”
I nod. Even though he was deceitful to me this week, my intuition is telling me I can trust him.
“All right. I have no reason not to trust your instincts.” A ghost of a smile cracks my lips at the actuality in Brandon’s tone. “We’re already halfway there, so we may as well continue on our journey.” After offering me the crook of his elbow, he locks his eyes with mine. “Are you ready to find out where every guy's worst nightmare grew up?”
Cringing, I nod while silently praying weird stalker fetishes are the only hazardous things we stumble upon today.
CHAPTER18
ISAAC
“Boss.”
“Where is she?”
“Talking to blondie outside of the car,” Hugo responds.
My jaw clenches as my top lip sets into a straight line. “Do you know where they're going?”
“Not yet, but I’ll soon find out. I just confiscated blondie’s car for my own personal use. You’ll have to send Roger to pick up the Audi.” His chuckles fuel my annoyance instead of dousing it. “You know you could ask Izzy where she's going. I’m sure she’d tell you.”
Snubbing his relationship advice, I sternly request, “Watch her, Hugo.”
“She won’t leave my sight.” His tone relays the truth in his statement, and it eases the uncertainty weighing down my chest. “Hey, Boss…”
I press my phone back against my ear. “Yes.”
“What I said to you the other night is true. If you don’t hurry up and pull your head out of your ass, someone will swoop in under your fucking nose and steal her.”
“Over my dead body.”
I disconnect our call, but not before his loud chuckle screeches down the line. It takes all my strength not to throw my phone onto the blue-carpeted floor beneath my feet. Just knowing Isabelle is associating with a man whose eyes light up like a Christmas tree every time she's near has blood racing through my body, but I need her to leave town as it will give my security team time to work out who’s been tailing her the past week.
I'm reasonably confident it isn't Col. He rarely takes business matters outside of the family, but who else is a threat to Isabelle? The only respite I have is that I trust Hugo when he says he won’t let her out of his sight. He’s my most loyal employee, and the only person I trust to look after Isabelle when I can’t. Under my lawyer’s advice, I’ve kept my distance from Isabelle the past week. Our relationship must remain a secret until Theresa’s investigation is found unwarranted. By not associating with her, the risk of me unwillingly implicating her in their investigation is significantly reduced. I won’t lie. It’s been a hard endeavor.
After housing my unregistered phone in my suit’s top pocket, I pace into Isabelle’s apartment. My cock twitches when I catch the tiniest whiff of her scent infused in the air. Hunter acknowledges my presence with a bob of his head before squashing his index finger to his mouth, requesting for me to remain quiet. His unusual quiet piques my interest. His scan of Isabelle’s apartment must have unearthed something.
He places the all-in-one frequency scanner on the dining table before dragging a wooden chair to a hanging pot in the corner of the room. With pursed lips, he digs his hand into the pot, scattering the marble floor with potted dirt. My jaw muscle spasms when he yanks a small black device out from beneath the rubble. Soundlessly, he nudges his head to a glass of water on Isabelle’s table. When I hand it to him, he drops the bug into the glass.
“Give it two minutes, then take it out and stomp on it.”
“It’ll be my pleasure,” I respond more to myself than Hunter. “Was there only the one device?”
After climbing down from the chair, he strolls into Isabelle’s compact yet modern kitchen. The marble countertops are covered with the equipment he utilizes while searching for bugs or listening devices. “There was also a hidden camera.”
My breathing stops as my eyes dart to his. “Where was it located?”
I swear the moon circles the planet three times before he finally answers, “In the living room.”
My breathing returns to a normal rhythm, grateful it wasn’t housed in Isabelle’s bedroom. Hunter scrubs his beard before plugging the USB port from a camera with a lens not much bigger than the tip of a ballpoint pen into a larger storage device. Once he inserts that USB into his laptop, he clicks a black camera icon on the monitor. Suddenly, his pupils widen, and he freezes.
“Fuck.” He pivots around, so his back now faces the laptop screen.
When my confused gaze drops to the computer screen, fury scorches through my veins so fast it burns. Inches of Isabelle’s beautiful naked skin is plastered across the monitor. The first few images aren’t too concerning because I’m covering most of her body, but as our vigorous morning activities progress, they grow more disturbing. Every inch of her delicate skin I devoured the morning I was arrested is on display.
I can still recall the smell of honey on her lips from the sweetened coffee she was drinking when she straddled my lap to nibble on my ear. Never able to restrain myself when it comes to her, I ended an important call to take her for the second time that morning on the red shag rug in her living room. The photos Hunter just downloaded gives a play-by-play recount of the activities we undertook that morning.
