Page 69 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
For weeks, I’ve watched him emerge from his nightclub with a range of women on his arm. I stupidly told myself that not everything is as it seems. I remembered what he said aboutthere being a whole heap of gray no one pays any attention to. I gave him the benefit of the doubt as Hugo requested.How could I have been so stupid?
“Get out!” I shout again as tears spring down my face.
When Isaac remains standing in the entryway looking baffled and angry at the same time, I slip under his arm and bolt to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
By the time I’ve scrubbed my skin red raw to remove Isaac’s intoxicating scent from my body, tears are streaming out of my eyes more forcefully than the water flows from the faucet.
CHAPTER30
Two weeks later…
“Hey, it’s nearly ten o’clock, and we have the weekend off.” I amble into the dimly lit conference room no one ever uses. “So, what are you still doing hiding out in here?”
My enthusiasm about having the weekend off gets sucked right out of me when my eyes roam over the various moldy boxes surrounding Brandon. For the past two weeks, I’ve thrown myself into work. The only time I’ve been cooped up in my apartment is when I need to shower and sleep, but no matter how occupied I keep my brain, my thoughts always drift to Isaac.
“I no longer have the weekend off.” Brandon’s tone relays his disappointment.
Brandon’s eyes lift from the document in his hand. He grimaces and gags. Smiling at his playful response, I walk into the room and lift the lid on the first storage box. It’s filled to the brim with documents and reports.
My lips twist as I spin around to face him. “What are all these files?”
“They’re your Uncle Tobias’ records Alex had shipped here,” he explains, his tone reserved.
I remain quiet as Brandon heads for a larger section of boxes on the right-hand side of the room. “These are your uncle’s files from when he worked undercover in the Petretti Family. And these are his records on the Gottle family.” He points to the smaller pile of boxes I’m standing beside.
My brows scrunch. I didn’t know my uncle worked undercover in either of those families.
An overwhelming sense of deceit plagues me when I blurt out, “Isaac Holt doesn’t have any business connection with either the Petretti or the Gottle family.”
My statement isn’t a total lie. From what I’ve perceived in private, Isaac’s connection with both families is personal, not business-related.
“We already know Isaac is acquainted with Henry Gottle from the surveillance photo you got of Delilah Winterbottom months ago, but I agree, there has been no known association between Col Petretti and Isaac that would warrant me investigating them. Other than being rivals, I can’t find any connection between them, but Alex is adamant I have to spend my weekend rifling through these documents until I unearth Isaac’s dark secrets.”
“Do you believe Isaac’s secrets are held within these boxes?”
Brandon stays quiet as his curious hazel eyes filter over my face. He curses under his breath and runs his hand through his hair before his eyes collide with mine.
“Maybe ask me again next month?”
My lips curve into a smile. “Where do you want me to start?”
“It’s fine, Izzy. Go and enjoy your weekend off.” His eyes relay his appreciation of my offer to help.
I don’t grace him with a reply. I just remove my coat and hang it over the back of Brandon’s jacket flung over a spare chair. Brandon grins at my silent response. Once he finishes rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, blue business shirt, he pulls out a handful of manila folders from the closest box and gestures for me to take a seat opposite him.
His grin enlarges to a full smile when I murmur, “You’re paying for the pizza.”
Brandon’s eyes lift to mine as he snags the last slice of pizza out of the grease-lined box. “So, we have worked out Delilah is a cradle snatcher, dating a man six years her junior. Her husband, Henry Gottle, III, Isaac Holt, and Cormack McGregor went to the same university,” he says through a mouthful of cheese pizza.
“Yep. Cormack and Isaac were roommates, and Henry was their RA.”
“Henry now works as a promoter for the UFC in New York City, and he hasn’t had any known contact with his father in over five years.”
“Nearly six,” I interrupt, checking the information my Uncle Tobias noted in his file on Henry Gottle, III. “Isaac’s fighter, Jacob Walters, was a UFC fighter before he was issued a two-year probation for assault on a gentleman named Callum Parker. Jacob retaliated when Callum brutalized his on-and-off-again girlfriend, Lola. Isaac paid Jacob’s extensive legal bills.”
“But why would Isaac be interested in organizing a fight for Jacob in the UFC? Wouldn’t he make more money by keeping him in his private fighting circle? The rumors are those fights can range from five thousand to over one hundred thousand a fight.”
“This is why.” I hand him an arrest warrant for domestic abuse filed three years ago for a Curtis Parker. “That’s Callum’s brother, Curtis. Curtis is a contracted UFC fighter. His contract is locked up so tight, he can’t fight anyone not in the UFC for at least the next three years. Jacob and Curtis fought early in Jacob’s UFC career. That’s the only match Jacob was defeated in so far in his illustrious career. After that match, the referee was cited for biases. Maybe if Isaac can organize this fight for Jacob, Jacob will continue to fight in Isaac’s fighting ring?”
