I was glad Telly had come through for me with the cloning device. It would certainly cut down on the amount of time I had to spend in his presence. I wasn’t sure who was the better hacker, Telly or East. My guess was it depended on what kind of hacking you needed. But watching the two of them battle it out non-stop to see who was better was very entertaining. And it benefited me. In this case, since I didn't want Bridge knowing what I was doing, Telly had been the better choice.

  Would East be faster? Sure. Could East actually protect me if some shit went down? Again, probably. But would East tell Bridge what was going on? One hundred percent, undoubtedly. Which I couldn't have. So, I had a plan. All I had to do was execute it. Oh, and not get killed or exposed in the process.

  At one point during lunch Bridge leaned over. “We need to talk.”

  I nodded mutely through my forced smile. He narrowed his gaze at me as if he didn’t believe me. The thing was, I had Nyla's help making my escape. As soon as his back was turned, she directed me out the side door.

  As I scooted past her, she grinned. "You know, normally I don't agree with playing games. But if he's going to be a dick, then he deserves what he gets."

  "I appreciate it. And it's not a game. I just need time. This is all moving quite quickly. And if Mina is still in the picture, maybe I'm not needed at all."

  She frowned. "Please God, not Mina, okay? She's a right stropping cow. Just the worst. The absolute worst. If you want him, go get him. Don't give in to Mina."

  "Well, currently we are very much on the he should come and get me angle. I'm not chasing anyone."

  "And that I agree with. You, my darling, are excellent. And he would be lucky to have you."

  "Thank you. But let me get out of here before he notices I'm gone."

  I marched across the road, my heels making a clop-clop sound on the cobblestones. More than once I wobbled slightly, nearly turning an ankle. I finally flagged down a taxi and hopped in.

  The car was pulling away just as the side door opened and out came Bridge, gaze trained on me. My phone buzzed in my hand. When I looked down, there he was.

  Bridge: Where the fuck are you going?

  I considered answering, but I didn't bother, and as the taxi approached West London, I had the driver take a detour. I don't know what led me back to the rooftop across from my parents' secret flat, but I just needed a moment to clear my head. I had plans. Crazy dangerous things I was planning on doing. All in the name of my brother.

  The best part was, it didn't even occur to me that it might not be the wisest course of action, but at least my goal was singularly focused. Make the men who hurt Toby pay. There was that little voice at the back of my head that said, And what happens after? What happens when you make them all pay? Then what will you do with yourself?

  It was a question I didn't have an answer to. And one I probably wouldn't have for some time. I was this close already. There was no turning back. No second guesses. This was it. One guilty party to go, and then maybe I could see about getting my own life. Finding love if that was even a thing. I saw it happen for Livy and Nyla. And Telly too. But even Telly was having a moment where love might not be enough. And I didn't even know if someone like me could have love. I was perpetually unlovable even to my own father. Oh yeah, because that made a perfect fact for a dating profile.

  You just stay focused. Focus on the important thing. Catch Middleton. Make him pay. And then you'll be free.

  Whatever the hell that meant.

  It was the creaking sound of the roof door that had me whipping around to find the one person I never thought would find me. "Jesus Christ, Bridge, what the fuck are you doing here?"

  His voice was a low growl as he approached me like a jungle cat. "Don't run from me. Do you understand? It took me a few days, but I found you. You run from me again, and I'll find you again. You don't run from me, do you understand?"

  I scowled at him. "Oh really? You're going to stop me?"

  "Yes, you damn well better believe I am." With every stride toward me, I could see the intent on his face, the fury. He wasn't used to anyone telling him no. He wasn't used to anyone defying him. But as he approached, all I did was lift my chin up, ready to do battle. He would not control me. And he certainly would not control my heart. At least that's what I thought before he fisted a hand into my hair, tugged my head back, and slammed his lips on top of mine.

  Bridge

  She stole the breath from my lungs. I couldn't breathe. Jesus fucking Christ, I could not breathe. I didn't even know what had possessed me to kiss her. I didn't know what I needed or why. Just seeing her ratcheted up the tension in my body to a roaring hum. All I knew was she tasted incredible. Like everything I needed but everything I shouldn't want. She was sweet and soft.

  I could feel her surprised gasp straight to my dick. When I clasped my hands into her hair, fisting gently, tightening just a little, she gasped, and then it happened. That moan, that low moan at the back of her throat that told me I wasn't the only one suffering. That I wasn't the only one feeling this. That I wasn't the only one dying.

  I knew all of the reasons I shouldn't want Emma. I knew all of the reasons I should stay away from her, all of the reasons why she was trouble. But I couldn't stop. As her tongue glided over mine and our teeth clashed, I pulled her to me, our bodies melting together.

  Her mewls ratcheted up the electricity coursing through my veins. All I wanted to do was take more, fist her hair, hold her there as I ravaged her. As it was, I was probably fisting too tight, but somehow I couldn't make myself let go, couldn't make myself stop. I was drowning in the sea of her scent wrapping around me. The need for her building and building, layer upon layer, until all I was going to see every single time I closed my eyes was her. She was already more than a distraction and so much more than I could take, and at the same time, she was everything I needed, everything I wanted. For three years I had thought I wanted something else. Something cold and distant. Something that was the opposite of this, because I had known that dancing this close to a flame, I was going to get burned.

  But still, with my other hand, I cupped her cheek, pulling her in and daring myself to dance even closer, needing more from her. Demanding that she respond. And did she. When I finally released my hold on her hair, I slid my hands over her back down to her ass, bringing her soft curves in closer contact with my muscles. My dick practically jumped with joy. "God, this fucking arse has tortured me."

  I didn't realize I'd said it out loud until she whimpered. And that moan sounded a lot like my name, but who the hell could tell because I had my tongue in her mouth, and I was taking out my frustration and worry on her. The fear over the last few days of not knowing where she was, what she was doing, if Middleton had hurt her or she'd done something reckless. I would have lost it.

  But when she turned up today in that god-awful gray, I wanted to shoot whoever had dressed her. Because that wasn't Emma. Emma was full of color. She was adventurous and always loud and unpredictable. Emma was alive. And as I kissed her, stroking my tongue over hers, fucking her mouth like I wanted to fuck her body, like I wanted to use my fingers and my dick, tilting her ass just so she could feel the full length of my rigid erection, I knew that now that I'd broken the seal, there would be no reprieve. Now that I'd tasted her, there would be no getting the sugar and spice off my tongue. There would be no forgetting this, no putting Emma back in her box, because now I was lost.

  I wanted more. But instead of taking more, I tried to let go. But Emma wrapped her arms around my neck, holding on close. When I released her, shifting my hands across her hipbones and trying to make her back up, she held tighter and rotated her hips just the way I wanted her to. That simple, small action had me tightening my hands on her hips so hard, I might have left bruises. Against her mouth, I muttered a low, "Fuuuuccck."

  And I could almost feel the tip of my dick weeping. Begging me to just give in. Please God, for once in my life, just take the thing that I needed more than air, to take this dangerous thing without the consequences.

  But I was fooling myself because deep down inside, I knew that with Emma, there would be more than one time. There would be no just this once. If I went there, I would have to go there again, and again, and again, because I was already an addict. And all I had done so far was kiss her. So even as she held on, I very deliberately reached behind my neck, unclasped her hands, and stepped away.

  "Fuck, Emma."

  We stood there for a long moment and she blinked slowly, trying to get her brain synapses back online. "H-h-h-h-how did you find me?"

  "It doesn't matter. This can’t happen."

  I watched as her eyes narrowed. "Are you fucking serious right now?"

  "Yeah. Let's not muddy any lines, okay? It's too complicated."

  Pain sliced through my heart as I watched her shutter her eyes. The softness I'd just seen in them, the vulnerability, vanished and sassy Emma came out.

  She always had this flicker in her eye, pure mischief and trouble. "Oh, gosh. Wouldn't want you getting the wrong idea with you kissing me and all that. I guess you end all your arguments that way, huh? By kissing people? My God, that must be hot as shit to watch you and Ben, opposite ends of the spectrum, him so fair, you so dark, making out every single time you have a fight. God, it must be some hot action. Do you grope his ass the same way? You know, inquiring minds. I want to get visuals properly."

  I blinked at her. "Shut it, Emma."

  "What? I'm asking for a friend. Me, I'm the friend." She raised a hand. "If you're telling me that’s how you end all arguments with your friends, I am here for it. I approve this message."

  I was not going to do this with her. "Come home."

  "No. That's not my home."

  Bloody hell. Maybe force wasn’t the way to do this. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stopped to talk to Mina. We are a team. You and me. I should have respected that. I didn't mean to discount what you were feeling. I just... There's nothing to say except I fucked up."

  "What's to keep you from fucking up again? After all, it's Mina. She knows all your secrets."

  "I don't know." That was the truth. I didn't know. Hell, I had no idea. I might fuck up again. "I might screw up. But I'm aware of it. I have a blind spot there. She doesn't need me. But we have a job to do, okay?"

  She blinked up at me slowly. "Oh, we have a job to do. But just for future note, never kiss someone like that to apologize again. It's not a good look."

  And then she turned around toward the door of the roof and yanked it open.

  Emma

  I had no idea what to think about that kiss. And the way he'd run off afterward as if I'd burned him… What the fuck? This was the most fucked up scenario. And I kept falling for it.

  My plan had been to go back to the house in Belgravia. My little sojourn could only last for so long because somebody would notice that Bridge and I were living separate lives. As I was headed down the stairs of the roof, I got a text from Francis.

  It was just an address. I could try to ignore the summons, but something told me that would be a bad idea. I forwarded the address to Telly, Nyla, and Liv, letting them know the madness I was partaking in just in case. Then downstairs, I grabbed a taxi to Westminster, not Belgravia.

  I needed to do this assignment. Needed Middleton to trust me enough to take me with him to Barcelona. So far, I was the only one close enough to find out what the hell he was up to. I double-checked the address where I'd been summoned and there was a hustle and bustle of a couple of people from the office as I strolled in.

  "What's going on?"

  Francis met me at the door. If he noticed my glammed up look, he said nothing about it. He looked freshly showered and shaved. Where had he been tonight? Was he at the same benefit I’d been at with Bridge? "This is Weston Price. His wife and daughter are missing."

  I blinked rapidly. "Where are the police?"

  He frowned at me like I’d asked something ridiculous. "We were called first. There is an off chance that his wife took his daughter and left."

  This picture was wrong. Maybe you don't call the police if your wife is missing. But your daughter? "What? Are they missing, or did she leave him?"

  "Unclear. So we need to handle this. We need to treat this like they are missing persons. Unless…"

  My stomach dropped. "Fuck, did he kill her?"

  Middleton’s eyes went wide. "No. This isn't anything like that."

  "Well, it's going to look like that to the police. So, what are we doing? When did you get here?"

  "Five minutes ago. He called me ten minutes before that. It’s only been fifteen minutes."

  I shook my head. "Assume he freaked out for fifteen minutes. So it’s already been a half hour. If they're missing, we need to call the police right now."

  “Manage the crisis, Varma. Take care of your client."

  I stared at him. "You have to be kidding me."

  "You wanted to prove yourself, right? Well, here's your chance. Fix this. Crisis manage."

  "All right, first and foremost, call DI David Strickland.” I handed one of the assistants my phone. “He's in there. He's a friend. He'll come. His district isn't exactly Westminster, but he'll come and make the appropriate calls on the way."

  I brushed past Kara, one of the assistants, and walked up to our client. "Mr. Price, I’m Emma Varma. I work with Francis. When was the last time you saw your wife?"

  His gaze slithered over me to Francis, and I stepped in his path to block his view. "Don't look at him. Look at me. I'm the one here to help you. This is my case. If you lie to me, I will throw you to the wolves and I will destroy you. I will make sure the police arrest you on suspicion of murder. Now tell me, where are your wife and daughter?"

  His mouth hung open, again trying to glance at Francis, and again, I stepped in his path. "Was I not clear when I said, I'm the one in charge? Tell me what I need to know."

  He swallowed hard. "Her car is gone. I-I wasn't home the last couple of days."

  "Were you traveling for work? Where were you?"

  He cleared his throat. "I, um…"

  "Before you think about that lie that's trying to formulate itself, think again. I already warned you what would happen if you lied. I have a police Detective Inspector on his way right now. He's a close personal friend. If you lie to me, I will tell him that you're suspicious, and I could give two fucks about my job." I turned around to glower at Francis. "So do not lie to me."

  "I take two days out of a month to go away. I-I have a dominatrix."

  Inside, I howled and bent over with laughter. On the exterior though, my face was the picture of composure. "We need his or her name and address."

  He hesitated. "I need discretion."

  "You will have no such thing if your wife and daughter are missing via foul play. So, you need to have less discretion with me right now. Name, address, alibi, right the hell now. When did you get home?"

  He'd stopped looking at Francis now. "Thirty minutes ago. I wasn't worried. But Asha, my daughter, she had piano lessons at seven. They should have been home by eight-thirty at the latest. My wife is a stickler by the schedule, and they weren't here."

  "Did you try her phone? Call friends?"

  He nodded. "Then I called Francis."

  "Okay, you're going to need to remember exactly what you told me, make sure your story doesn't waver because it's the truth. Is it the truth, Mr. Price?"

  He blinked at me and nodded. "Yes."

  I watched him carefully. His hands were jittery. It could be anxiety because his wife and child were not where he expected them to be. But it could be something else too. "Were you leaving out something?"

  His head snapped up. "What do you mean?"

  "What are you leaving out? A lie by omission is still a lie. And that would make me very annoyed indeed."

  The assistant came by and handed me back my phone. "He's on his way."

  "Yeah. It's the DI. He's coming. Now is your chance. Truth or dare. The dare part is you take your chances with the Detective Inspector on your own."

  I watched him visibly swallow. "My wife, we were having troubles. She wanted to leave. My, uh, proclivities were not to her liking."

  I sighed. "So she might have just left. Did you check the bank account?"

  He frowned. "Uh, no."

  "Check the accounts." Another assistant ran by. "Get Mr. Price some water and also get him a washcloth and a comb. He should look slightly rumpled, but not completely disheveled. And is that whiskey on your breath, sir?"

  He nodded. "I-I poured a drink."

  "Where's your glass?"

  He frowned at me. "My glass?"

  "Yes, your bloody glass."

  "I-I drank from the bottle, I guess."

  I stopped another assistant. "Grab me a glass."

  When he brought it over, I slapped it on the table next to what looked to be a very expensive bottle of scotch. "Someone get Mr. Price a toothbrush. And someone grab me a shirt. Make sure that you rumple it on your way down. We're going to change your shirt because you have spilled some whiskey on you, and you smell like a distillery."

  Price just stared at me.

  "Move."

  In the hustle and bustle, my brain was whirring. Had he done something to his wife? Because I had not signed up for that nonsense. There was justice for Toby and then there was actively supporting a murderer. That I could not do.

  When the shirt was brought over, it wasn't rumpled enough, so I grabbed it, balled it up, rolled it around, and twisted it. When I unfolded it, it was a disheveled mess. "Put this on. Somebody take that one, bag it, and give it to the DI."

  The other assistants were off with it. "Mr. Price, grab the glass."

  He wrapped his fingers around it. "Okay, no one has touched your wife's or your daughter's rooms?"

  He shook his head.

  "Is your blood up there? Anything that suggests that, you know, in a fit of rage when she'd tried to leave, you Dextered her?"