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Throwing my elbow behind me, I prayed to hit something that would slow him, but he already had me. Leo’s grip around my neck tightened, his forearm constricting my airway as he yanked me back against him. No matter how much I fought, the fucking gorilla of a man barely flinched.
“Y’know, situations like this is why I only hire betas. They’re so much easier to control.” Roman stepped up close to me, grabbing my jaw painfully tight to force me to look at him snarling in my face. “You owed meeverything!Did that alphaeven have to try to get you in bed with him? Or did you smell him and just offer yourself up? You omegas are fucking pathetic. But I’ll still get my money’s worth outta you.”
He stepped away with a grin, nodding to Leo.
Panic surged through me, and I resumed my struggle, kicking and wriggling for all it was worth. “What are you—”
A sharp sting in my neck cut off my words, and suddenly, my body felt like it was made of lead. My flat spun around me. My knees slammed against the floor, and I landed in a crumpled heap of limbs.
“Careful, Leo!” Roman’s voice pierced the fog steadily consuming my mind. “That boy’s expensive.”
Carpet scratched my cheek as rough hands threw my limp form over something hard, probably a shoulder. Darkness blurred my vision, and I desperately tried to focus on the noises around me, fighting whatever drug was swirling in my system, but it was no use.
“Call the client back. Tell him we’ve got another to go with his girl, then go collect the diary. I want this job finished today.”
Chapter Sixteen
Emerson
Forthefirsttimein weeks, I was able to work in the office uninterrupted. I hadn’t seen Pearl as I came in this morning, but she was doing an excellent job at herding Harris away from my office all morning. Hopefully, he hadn’t asked too much of her yesterday. I’d have to check on her at lunch.
Pushing my colleagues to the back of my mind, I poured my focus into Miranda Fisher’s diary. Everything from the text itself to the peculiar wear and tear of certain pages held my interest, but I made a note of a few things I thought could prove useful.
There were many initials we hadn’t been able to assign to known associates of hers—R and L were often in short meetings every few weeks, but H seemed to be for social occasions and larger gatherings. Strange that we hadn’t found them during the raid where she was arrested.
As I turned the final page, the inside cover caught my eye. The lining curled away from the edge, ever so slightly. Normally,I wouldn’t think anything of it in a book this worn, but it was curling away from the spine as if it had been glued down badly in the past. Flipping the book over, I compared it to the inside of the front cover. The edge where the outer cover met the inner lining was sealed perfectly. How odd.
I took a moment to take a few photos on my phone, then grabbed a craft knife from my drawer and carefully peeled up the inner lining of the back cover. It came off with very little resistance, only reaching near the spine all the way down. It definitely wasn’t sealed by a professional bookbinder. As I lifted the lining further, it revealed a photograph of a woman, held in the arms of a man, her legs wrapped around his waist as they smiled lovingly at each other.
The woman was instantly recognisable to me from the years’ worth of evidence I’d been looking into. Miranda Fisher. But the part that had my hand shaking and my lungs gasping for air was that I also recognised the man holding her. In fact, I saw him just yesterday.
Loving you always, H xx
His handwriting was on the back of the photograph. So familiar and yet… It couldn’t be. I must’ve missed something. There was just no way, right?
My phone clicked over and over as I photographed my findings. This had to be why Trystan was hired to steal the diary. If the police had already found this, he would’ve been arrested weeks ago. He knew I’d figure this out.
“Emerson!” a muffled voice shouted from outside as a fist pounded on the door. “I need to talk to you!”
“Just a moment!” I called out to the stranger at my door. Where had Pearl gone?
While the banging continued, I quickly placed the photo and fake lining back in the book and locked it away in the small safe under my desk. It would have to do for now.
I practically ripped the door off its hinges as I opened it, knowing I likely looked a mess. My eyes darted around the empty hallway, and I felt sweat beading on my forehead.
An orange blur burst into my office, screaming, “Trystan’s gone!”
“Bee?” I spun to Trystan’s flatmate, closing the door behind them. “What are you talking about? Slow down.”
They looked even worse than I did, clutching a beat-up-looking laptop like a lifeline as they paced in a tight circle on my rug. Reaching out with one hand, I guided them to the sofa.
“What’s this about Trystan?” I asked. “He seemed fine when I left this morning. Did he say something?”
Shit, I’d heard of this happening—omegas getting scared after bonding with an alpha if they were left alone too quickly. I hadn’t even considered it would happen to Trystan. He seemed so secure in himself earlier. Why would he run?
Bee opened their laptop and clicked through a few folders. “I was showing the audio-bug tech to a friend of mine early this morning, you know, the stuff we used yesterday. Anyway, I realised it was recording live. I thought Trys must’ve left it in his pocket—he’s always doing shit like that—and maybe I’d hear something funny to joke about later…” They inhaled a shaking breath and looked at me with tears in their eyes. “I think he’s in real trouble.”
“Play it,” I said, my jaw clenching painfully. If Bee was reacting this badly, this was something a lot worse than post-bonding jitters.
