“Get the fuck out of here, Rafael,” she snaps, pressing the hem of her dress into her palm as she rummages through the waiter’s pockets—most likely searching for some form of ID without leaving prints.
I don’t argue.
I leave without another word. Not because she ordered me to, but because I’m itching to see what treasure I just pilfered. If she knew what I slipped into my pocket, she wouldn’t be so eager to kick me out.
Without a backward glance, I walk out of the office, through the quiet hallway, and back down the stairs towards the mainhall, where the event is still in full swing. A couple of people are caught up in a bidding war, waving their little paddles at some overpriced trinket on display, and the auctioneer is lapping it up, trying to egg them on.
“That’s twelve thousand—can I get twelve thousand and one?... My God! Thirteen thousand! Is that the final bid? Going… going… thirteen thousand-five hundred!” The delight in his voice is clear for all to hear. The man is living his best life.
I adjust my lapels and make my way to the exit. If anyone tries to stop me, I swear to–
“Rafael!”
Fuck.
A woman plants herself in my path, arms crossed, face pinched like she just bit into a lemon. “I’ve never seen a man spend so long in the restroom before. What? You had a number two situation?”
Right. My date. Bethany. The woman I was planning to take back to my hotel to bleed off some lust. To distract me from exactly what happened upstairs.
But now, with Emilia’s sweet taste still coating my tongue, the thought of bedding Bethany softens my cock faster than a cold shower.
I level a cold start at her, and her bluster crumbles instantly. Her arms drop to her sides, her expression shifting from anger to wounded puppy. “You were gone for so long… I was lonely,” she whines, now all whimper and pout.
“I doubt you were,” I say dryly, flicking my gaze from her face to the direction she came from—the bar—where half a dozen men are practically drooling over her backside, thirsty for attention she’d no doubt been happily providing.Predictable.
“Iwas!” she insists. “I missed you. But whatever, you’re back now.” She smiles coyly and raises her hand towards my chest.
I grab her wrist before she makes contact.
“Why don’t you go have some fun with your admirers over there?” I nod at the bar. “Something important has come up that I need to deal with right away.”
She pouts dramatically, but I’ve already moved on, stepping past her and heading for the exit with purpose. No one should dare stop me this time.
When a man in a suit waves and starts towards me, I fix my face into stone—brows pinched, mouth flat. He takes one look and quickly turns away like he’s suddenly discovered something fascinating in the opposite direction.Smart man.
I text my driver, Alfred, as I cross the threshold out of the hall, and by the time I step outside, my car is already purring at the curb. The valet gets the door for me, and I acknowledge him with a nod, absently taking a wad of cash out of my wallet to tip him.
His jaw drops and he bows so enthusiastically, his head knocks against the side of my car. “Thank you so much, sir!”
I wave him off and slide into the backseat, shutting my door.
The moment Alfred pulls away from the curb, I reach into my pocket and withdraw my prize—the flash drive I lifted from between Emilia’s perfect breasts while I had her a little…distractedearlier.
“What do you suppose could be on here?” I muse out loud, turning the small device over in my fingers.
Alfred spares me a quick glance through the rearview mirror but, as always, keeps his mouth shut. He’s smart enough to recognize a rhetorical question.
I close my fist around the flash drive and relax back into my seat. I’ll find out soon enough.
Part of me wishes I could see the expression on my little rogue’s face when she realizes her precious little flash drive is missing. Will she suspect me right away? Or just assume it slipped out during her grand exit? Honestly, storing sensitiveintel in the space between her tits was such a reckless choice—not that I minded the placement.
The thought makes me smirk as the car glides through the city. Alfred has been with me for years—over a decade—and he’s an expert at weaving and bobbing through traffic. So, within thirty minutes, we’re descending into my underground parking lot.
I get out of the car, whistling a jaunty tune as I head into the elevator, toes tapping the floor rhythmically. I catch a couple of my men trading glances, but I ignore their curiosity. Let them wonder what’s put me in such a fine mood. Mystery is part of maintaining respect.
The elevator opens on my office floor, where Enzo is sitting behind his desk, typing furiously on his computer. “Back so soon?” he asks, glancing up at me as I walk past him. “I know the event can’t be over.”
I shrug, heading straight for my office. “Found something more interesting.”
