Page 54 of Scars He Gave Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 2)

“Because Sentinel might have written the program …” Her eyes widen but she doesn’t deny anything. “But I’m following its tentacles.” Cutting them off one at a time, more like it. Even if they regrow as fast as I do.

She laughs. “You can’t beat it. Hell, I can’t beat it, and I helped dream it up.” She pulls out a chair and falls into it as if the lies aren’t holding her up anymore. “I wanted to tell you, but Peyton made me swear …”

Bingo.

Peyton did it.

Peyton wrote the virus.

I should’ve known—tech genius, secret skills, no accountability to anyone about what he’s doing or how he’s spending his time… It all lines up so perfectly.

There’s something else, too. Something I missed earlier.

As I look at Leila, her face reddens to a deep brick color. And I grasp the other big secret. It’s so obvious I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.

“Wait… Leila, you didn’t. You couldn’t. You slept with Peyton?”

Normally, that would be the headline for our day. Today, I have to choose betweenBosses Fornicating in Secret, andTech Start-up in Bed with Italian Mafia. Either way, it’s tawdry. But she just shrugs like it’s no big deal.

It isn’t my business or why I fought to come into work. I stare through the frosted glass of the conference room out at Evgeni’s outline. He’s so rigid and silent that it makes me feel like ants are crawling over my skin, but I also don’t have any desire to see him lying in a puddle of his own blood if the Italian mafia decides to add some real-life oomph to this computer virus.

“We’ll circle back on that later. Tell me about this program.”

She runs a nervous hand through her hair. “Some big Italian guy in a black suit with slicked-back hair and sunglasses came in a couple weeks before your wedding. All friendly and buddy-buddy.” She shrugs. “But those guys are never as nice as they seem. I don’t even know how it happened. Girl Scout’s Honor. But next thing I know, Peyton calls me into his office and tells me what we’re doing. Then he and I are working late every night, and sometimes the guy and his friends come back to check in on us…”

She shudders like she’s remembering a horrible nightmare, then folds her hands on the table in front of her to stop them from trembling. “

I can’t quite believe what I’m hearing. “So let me get this straight: an Italian mobster comes in and demands that you and Peyton help him take down their enemies, and you just agree?”

She shakes her head vehemently. “They knew stuff about me. They had pictures, details… We couldn’t say no, Cor.”

“Why didn’t anyone tell me about it?” And by anyone, I mean her.

“When you were hired, Peyton did a background check. A real thorough one. He does them on everyone. And since Tomas’ family and businesses are the target …” That math isn’t hard to figure.

We’ll get to the target in a minute. “Did I authorize a background check?” Just how deep did they go that Peyton knows about a ten-year-old relationship?

She nods. “It’s hidden in your contract. In everybody’s.” Her voice, along with the shrug, says it’s no big deal. But it’s so big, I can’t even …

“I want to see that file.” My fingers drum against the table frenetically.

“I can’t get that. It’s locked in Peyton’s desk.” Which tells me she tried. Another nerve-grating detail I file away to be upset about later.

How could she? How could he? How could they?

She won’t look at me, and I don’t want to hear some sad,he-tricked-mestory. I’m not going to get anything else out of her. She’s a wreck, face blotchy with shame.

I stand and fling the door open, marching down the hall, past Evgeni, to the stairs. By the time I get to Peyton’s door, I’m one angry huff away from an explosion. I don’t even bother with a knock.

He lifts his head and sits back as I storm in. “Corinne.”

This calm, cocky bastard. “What did you do?”

“What are you talking about?” But he knows. His eyes go dark and his hands clench.

“What do they have on you? What kind of leverage?”

His entire face pinches. There’s something to be said about what truth can do to a person. It reveals what you are underneath.

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