Page 298 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
He nods but remains quiet. When the elevator arrives in the lobby, he once again motions for me to enter first. Our ride to the fifteenth floor is done in silence, which is surprising. Usually, it’s hard to get a word in between us.
I follow Brandon into his lavish, well-decorated apartment. His furniture is high-end, but it still has a masculine bachelor-pad feel with dark colors and glass and steel features. The living area is nearly double the size of the one in my apartment, and the kitchen is even bigger than that.
After placing milk and perishable items into the refrigerator, he offers me one of the beers in his hand. I scrunch up my nose and shake my head. “Beer has never been my liquor of choice.”
“What about a glass of red, then?”
Not waiting for me to answer, he snags a wine glass from a frosted overhead cupboard and pours a generous helping of merlot into it. He hands the glass to me before entering his large living room. I shadow him, silently pondering why he's so reserved. I’ve never seen him so skittish—not even when Hugo had his gun directed at his head.
When he sits on a dark blue suede sofa, I fill the spot next to him. After folding my legs under myself, I curve my body so I can peer at his profile. “What happened?” I don’t elaborate on my question, certain he knows what I’m referring to.
He takes a swig out of his beer before mimicking my position, minus the legs curled under his backside. “We had opposing opinions on a matter.”
“We’ve all had that with Alex, but nothing bad enough to warrant him letting us go—”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not concerned about my position.”
My eyes snap to his, shocked by his abrupt reply. This isn’t Brandon. He's the friendly, never-has-a- bad-thing-to-say-about-anyone guy. I’ve only experienced this side of him once before. It was the day he told me Megan drugged Jenni and was suspected of killing her father.
“What’s going on, Brandon?” I dip my chin, coercing his eyes to mine. When I get them, I say, “Something is bothering you. You seem off, upset even.”
He takes another swig out of his beer before placing it on the steel and glass coffee table. He stares into the distance for several heart-thrashing seconds while sucking in big breaths. When his gaze drifts back to me, I lose the ability to breathe from the anxious look hampering his normally carefree face.
“If you knew something would hurt your friend, but you also knew they’d never forgive you if you didn’t tell them, would you tell them?”
I swallow, intuitively conscious that his statement is about me. It isn’t just the fact I can hear his heart hammering against his ribs. It’s the sorrow in his glistening eyes.
“Yes.” My throat works hard to swallow. “I'd want to know.”
“Are you sure, Izzy? Because once you know, it can’t be undone.”
Ignoring the swirling of my stomach, I nod again. After he squeezes my hand, he moves to his leather satchel hanging over a chair in his dining room.
“Alex told me about the payment between Isaac and Vladimir today,” I share when he pulls out a replica of the FBI folder Alex handed me earlier.
Brandon isn’t shocked by my admission, revealing he’s aware of their dealings. “This isn’t regarding that.”
He sits in the space next to me, except a little closer, so our knees brush. The remorse clouding his eyes has my nerves sitting on a very steep cliff. My heart is pounding so furiously, I’m shaking like I’m cold.
After removing a six by ten-inch photo from the folder, he apprehensively hands it to me. The air in my lungs is forcefully evicted when my eyes lower to the picture. “No.” I snap my eyes up to Brandon, soundlessly begging for him to tell me what I'm seeing isn’t true. “It can’t be.”
“I’m sorry, Izzy.” Terror grips my heart as my greatest fear comes to fruition. “It’s true.”
CHAPTER25
ISAAC
“Stop searching, she’s just walked in.”
Not giving Hunter the chance to reply, I snap my cell phone shut and turn my furious eyes to Isabelle. She left a note on the kitchen countertop three hours ago saying she’d return in an hour. I wasn’t happy she left without saying goodbye, but since she took Roger with her, I appeased my anger.
When an hour and a half ticked by, I called Roger. Jealousy engulfed me when he said he dropped her off at Brandon’s apartment an hour earlier. I’m trying to learn to control the vehement jealousy issues I have when it comes to Isabelle, but once another thirty minutes went by, and she still wasn’t answering her cell, I had Roger knock on Brandon’s door.
He answered but advised Roger that Isabelle had left forty-five minutes earlier. As untrusting of Brandon as I am, Roger searched his apartment. He was telling the truth. Isabelle had somehow snuck out of Brandon’s apartment building without being detected by Roger.
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been panicked out of my mind.” I stand from my office chair and march toward her, my anger unmissable in my brisk strides. “I’ve had half my security team searching for you.”
“I’m sorry—”
