Page 3 of Tabitha

Man claimed that, if we spent time together, I would see firsthand that Pierce only wants to be part of the family.

I scoffed at the idea, but it’s been months without even the tiniest hint of deception on his part.

And without proof, my hands are tied.

Despite everyone’s reassurances, I still don’t trust the fucker.

So I’ve been doing what I always do—I investigate on my own. Which means I wake up at the ass crack of dawn every morning to observe him.

Months of surveillance.

And despite all my precautions, I’d swear the man knows I’m watching.

It’s the small things, like the way he seems to pose for the cameras I set up in his room.

The way he walks around naked all the fucking time.

Especially when he masturbates for the cameras, as if trying to entice me.

I refuse to admit, even to myself, why I keepthosefiles on my personal laptop.

No doubt, he’s trying to distract me, but I’m too smart to fall for his tricks, especially when my family’s lives are at stake. The Belladonnas are everything to me, and I won’t let anyone threaten them. If Pierce discovers we’re a bunch of assassins, he’ll turn us over to the authorities in a heartbeat.

I refuse to allow that to happen.

I will protect the family, no matter the cost.

Only when Pierce is standing in front of the mirror, fixing his tie, do I finally lower the scope and slide down the steep pitch of the roof. My descent slows as I reach the window and climb back inside.

I hurriedly stash the scope in the unused room, hiding it next to the rest of the items I’ve pilfered over the last few weeks, then quicken my steps as I head toward the stairs, knowing I only have minutes before Pierce will appear.

Even as I stroll down the staircase, Pierce saunters through the front door, buttoning up the blue suit jacket he wears every day as a uniform. As soon as he steps into the house, his gaze meets mine.

It’s like he knows exactly where I am at all times.

It’s fucking unnerving.

His icy blue eyes lock on me, his gaze sharpening until my skin tingles, and I’d swear that he somehow knows I’ve been spying on him, but that’s impossible. My work is impeccable. My cameras are impossible to detect, former detective or not.

“Good morning, Tabitha,” my nemesis greets me, but I just scowl and hurry toward the kitchen.

I will not fraternize with the enemy.

I trust Man’s judgment. He’s very meticulous when he vets people, but something about Pierce just itches me the wrong way. From the very first time I spotted him, I’ve known he is trouble. I just have to catch him in the act.

Very conscious of Pierce following on my heels, I pick up my pace, my footsteps echoing loudly back at me. I enter the kitchen, then stumble to a stop when I find it empty. I’m used to seeing Karma humming under her breath as she putters around the kitchen, creating some fancy breakfast that tastes delicious. Seeing Darcy’s head in the fridge while she eats cold, leftover pizza, mumbling about codes or some computer nonsense that might as well be a foreign language. Meanwhile, Ivory gives anyone who looks at her a death stare as she huddles over her gallon of coffee.

Without the rest of the Belladonnas, the mansion feels hollow, full of ghosts.

While I normally enjoy my solitude, the house is too silent with everyone off living their new lives.

Oddly, I never expected to feel their absence.

Though I wouldn’t admit it aloud, rambling around this house by myself feels a bit…lonely.

The kitchen feels wrong without the smell of something delicious baking. I scowl when I notice that there isn’t even coffee brewing, and without Harlow’s clean freak tendencies to keep the house spotless, things seem out of place. While there isn’t any dust, it just doesn’t have that fresh, clean smell that says people live here.

Footsteps echo behind me, and I decide to skip breakfast and head to my shop. I’m not in the mood to be social with anyone. It’s way too early for me to pretend to be polite.

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