Page 95 of Stolen Omega

“He’s no different than the rest of the team.”

“I’m glad to hear that, but I thought perhaps the man who’s been spending the most time with my daughter over the last six months was someone you trusted implicitly. If that’s not the case, then I’d like to be taken up to her suite.”

I don’t like where this is going, but my choices are limited.

“Of course. Do you want to do that now, or can I make my statement to Detective Pascal’s partner first?”

“Now,” she says, moving toward the building.

Her husband moves with a sudden jolt, as if he just realized his wife was no longer at his side.

He pulls the door open for her, and she steps inside.

Pascal looks at me, before he leans in and whispers, “You know, if you let her murder you, I can put that bitch behind bars.”

The offer makes my lips twitch, but I shake my head. “Not an option. Sorry.”

“Damn,” he cusses as I follow that bitch into the building.

As much as I’d love to see Alma Ortega behind bars, I’m not prepared to sacrifice my life for the privilege.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Archer

Alma insists that her husband and Detective Pascal wait for us in the hotel’s lobby. The other detective is already sitting on one of the sofas there, checking through his notebook. He looks like he’s slowly falling asleep with his eyes open, despite the empty coffee cup on the low table in front of him. We walk to the elevator, and I get the suite key out of my wallet.

“We usually keep someone stationed on the door up there,” I explain when she looks at me. “Obviously when we found out Zelena had been taken, I got everyone out looking for her.”

“Obviously,” she echoes, frowning at me. “You realize you use the word ‘we’ a lot?”

“It’s how I usually talk about the team, because we’re a team.”

“Hmm.” She doesn’t sound impressed, but that seems to be her baseline.

I resist the urge to overexplain. That always seems to instinctively come out when she’s around.

I’m so used to making sure everything is perfect, so she leaves quickly whenever she visits.

The elevator doors open, and we step inside.

Given the late hour, the elevator is empty of other passengers.

The moment the doors close, I can tell Alma’s ready to say something she wasn’t willing to in front of the detective. She waits until we’re moving to open her mouth.

“I should have known better than to hire an Alpha as head of security.”

Refraining from rolling my eyes, I ignore the comment.

I’ve been present for more than a few of Alma’s bitter rants.

I know how they go, and I know better than to interrupt her.

“You’ve wanted my daughter since the day you laid eyes on her.”

Scarily accurate, but not for the nefarious reasons she clearly has in her thoughts.

“It was only a matter of time before you pulled a stunt like this.”

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