He kisses me even as his fingers tease me, pushing me to the edge of an orgasm. I’ve never come before while I was being kissed, probably because I’ve never been with a man talented enough to do it.
Dev has talent to spare, and he’s not sparing it with me. I come in a blind rush, his mouth fused to mine the entire time.
I don’t think a single sound escaped.
Before I’ve even come down, Dev leads me to the bed.
He pulls me across his lap, my thighs over his and my skirt hiked up to my waist. I reach for his fly, unzip it, and pull out his cock. He’s already fully erect, the veins standing out in contrast to the velvet hardness of his skin. The head is flushed purple, and there’s a small drop of fluid at the slit.
He tried to be cool and calm while he was fingering me, but his cock tells the real story. Dev’s as worked up as I am.
I roll the condom on, his gaze heavy on my hands as they work down his length. Then he’s pulling me forward, spreading me open, thrusting inside me.
His cock is thick, but in this position it feels impossibly so. I’m stretched so tight I come from the slightest motion.
He thrusts, once, slow, and I moan, high and needy.
“No,” he grunts and takes my mouth. His tongue thrusts in the same rhythm as his cock, all of me straining and stretching toward my climax.
When I come, it’s fast, hard, but never ending. Just when I think I can catch my breath, another wave of pleasure crashes over me and pulls me back down.
Dev is there with me, his mouth off mine, his breath hot and quick in my ear. We’re clinging to each other, the only thing keeping us upright.
I let my forehead fall to his shoulder, my lungs going so fast my ribs can barely keep up.
“Wow,” I croak out.
He makes some noise that might be agreement. Or maybe exhaustion. Or maybe both.
“Do you think they heard?” I whisper.
He laughs silently. “No, I think I got it all.”
I lift my head. The gold of his eyes is bright. “How long until we land?”
“Hours.”
“How long do you think we can keep quiet?”
One corner of his mouth rises at a wicked angle. “Hours.”
Chapter 22
Anjelica is holding my hand. It feels strange to have someone touch me in comfort, to be able to touch her in return and take that comfort.
And hope. She gives me hope.
There’s about half an hour until we land, and Anjelica is napping since I wore her out in the bedroom. Somehow her hair and makeup remain completely perfect. She touched it up after we got out of bed, but it’s still remarkable. I wonder how she manages that, keeping herself so pristine even when she’s asleep.
I know she can come undone, and somehow having seen her without her hair and makeup in place means more to me after seeing her keep it intact while she sleeps. She chose to let me see her like that. Chose to let me in when she was vulnerable.
The flight attendant comes up then. “We’re starting our descent.”
I nod in acknowledgment, then take Anjelica’s shoulder and shake gently. “We’re almost there.” I keep my voice quiet so I don’t scare her awake. I shake again, a touch stronger this time. “We’re about to land.”
It occurs to me that I could kiss her awake, like in the fairy tales. The flight attendant is gone and won’t be coming back until after we land; we wouldn’t be seen.
So I do it. I lean over and find her soft lips with my own. I keep it light, a quiet hello.
She makes a sleepy noise that sounds like a smile. Without opening her eyes, she asks, “Are we there yet?”
“Almost.”
“Then kiss me again.”
I do, again and again. Each kiss gets deeper, longer, until we’re fully locked in each other’s arms by the time the plane lands. I’m pretty sure it’s against regulations for us to be doing this while landing, but who’s going to stop us?
As the plane taxis to the terminal, we pull apart but keep ahold of each other’s hands.
Is this what a true connection is? Touching and being touched, anytime you need it? For all the time you need it?
It’s magical. Just like she is.
Anjelica puts her free hand to her mouth. “I need to fix my lipstick. And you…” She raises a laughing eyebrow.
Her lips are bare, which means most of her lipstick must be on me. “Do I look ridiculous?” I look around for a tissue.
“Ridiculously handsome.” Anjelica finds a tissue before I do and, taking my chin in my hand, wipes the evidence of our make-out session from my face. I’m tempted to kiss her all over again when she’s done—no cleanup necessary now—but the flight attendant comes back.
We’re here.
There’s a car waiting, a massive German luxury sedan. I want to give a very different impression this time if Fuchs is here. I help Anjelica in and take a moment to admire her, set against the interior of the car. She’s in something gray with a severe cut, her mouth a bold pop of red sin in the monochrome of her outfit. It makes me think of bending her over the hood of the car and fucking her until she screams.
Too bad we have other things to do.
The drive seems faster than the last time, but the clock tells me I’m wrong. When the pear tree comes into sight, Anjelica’s jaw twitches.
“I want to take this away from him. Give it back to the people.” Her tone is low, fierce.
I pull the car to the curb and park. “If it’s on the property, technically Corvus owns it. So we could do that.”
“Why would he put everything through the company?”
“Because he wasn’t expecting someone as smart and dedicated as you are to assemble all the various shell companies and holding firms and get a full list of all the properties.”
She ducks her head at the compliment. “He also wasn’t expecting someone as clever and devious as you are to take control of the company from right under his nose.”
I can only watch her for a long moment. We’ve both come so far in this, discovered things we’ve never imagined in each other. “Let’s go finish this.”
There’s a small gate embedded in the hedge. You’d miss it if you weren’t specifically looking for it. When I try it, the gate is locked.
But it’s a simple padlock, and when I bring the tools out from the trunk of the car—I figured it couldn’t hurt to have them—the entire latch comes off easily when I remove the bolts.
“Wow.” Anjelica’s impressed. “I never would have thought of that.”
I savor a moment of pride, then open the gate. “Let me go first.”
As soon as I step inside, I see the cameras. Mounted high on poles, they cover the entire yard. I stare straight at one, daring Fuchs to come out.
Anjelica comes up behind me. “Can he see us?”
“Probably.” If he’s inside. But something in my gut tells me that he is. That he’s been waiting for us this entire time.
I hold my hand out for her. She takes it, and as we walk across the lawn, I keep myself in front of her. I doubt Fuchs has snipers aiming for us, but there was the incident with Minerva and the Caltrain that was never fully explained. He’s more likely to try to hurt me instead of her anyway—he probably thinks Anjelica is beneath his notice, a mere secretary. Fuchs has a lot of contempt for those he thinks are beneath him. And he thinks most of the world is beneath him.
We arrive at the front door without incident. Still, my muscles are tense, my heart jittery. Because what if he isn’t here? Or if he is, how do I make him tell me what I want to know?
I’ve come so far, and suddenly failure seems so horribly real.
There’s a camera above the doorway. I look up at it as I knock. I do it hard and loud, demanding to be let in.
There’s no response. The camera’s single eye keeps watching us.
I knock again, just as loud, just as hard. My knuckles are stinging, but I only dimly feel it. Anjelica’s hand in min
e is more real than the pain.
Still, all is quiet. Even the birds seem to be silenced by my knocking.
“He might not be here,” Anjelica says tentatively.
“He is.” My answer is grim. I knock again, smashing my fist against the door. “He hears us. He fucking hears us, don’t you Fuchs?” That last is a shout aimed at the camera.
Anjelica clasps my arm. “I think you’re bleeding. We can try again later—”
The door swings open.
Fuchs has never looked like the absolute asshole he is. This time is no different. He’s wearing wire-frame glasses, khakis, and a plain, long-sleeved T-shirt. He’s so middle-aged and boring-looking it’s fucking offensive. And here he was all this time, right under our noses. Mocking us.
My rage is hot and fast and I’m rushing through the door, grabbing him and pulling him off his feet before I can even think.
“Where are they?” I shake him, making his head bobble like a toy. I can hear his teeth clacking. “Where are they? Tell me now before I—”
“Dev!” Anjelica’s voice cuts through my anger. “He can’t answer anything like that. Look at him.”
I finally do and notice Fuchs is bright red, maybe even a touch purple. I ease my grip and he sucks in a desperate breath. Immediately my fists tighten again. He got an inhale, now he has to talk.
“No,” Anjelica says. “You don’t have to let him go, but you do have to let him breathe.”
I grumble, but I relax my grip. “I’m not going to let go,” I warn Fuchs. “Who else is here with you? Guards? Mercenaries?”
He doesn’t answer quick enough, so I bounce his head off the wall. “It wasn’t hard,” I say at Anjelica’s look.
“No one,” Fuchs gets out. “Just some maids.”
I don’t know if I should believe him. One more head thump couldn’t hurt—
“Don’t.” Anjelica’s read my mind. “Try to ask him now.”
I take a deep breath. “A few years ago, you tried to hire me away from the Bastards. Do you remember?”
His eyes are cold, clear. If he’s afraid, he’s hiding it well. Except for the flush on his skin, you’d never know I was just choking him.
“Of course I remember,” he says, his tone as cold as his gaze.
“You had information about my past. Things no one else knew.” I was so shocked, horrified really, when Fuchs told me everything he found. I was always so careful to never tell anyone—even the press had never figured it out—but Fuchs had known everything.
I’m not afraid of people finding out now. Not when I’m so close to uncovering the ultimate mystery.
“Records searches aren’t difficult.” Fuchs’s mouth twitches. “For me.”
I don’t rise to that bait. “You also had other information. Information you wouldn’t give me.”
His smile comes on slow, like ice forming in the dead of winter, creeping across things and freezing them solid. “Your parents.”
Everything about him repulses me, but I hold on. “Yes. I want their names. You promised me that if I’d work for you. I said no and now I’m in control. I hold your company, I even own this house. You’ll tell me now.”
“I’m not so stupid as to give away my only bargaining chip.”
Anjelica makes a small noise behind me. But I knew it wouldn’t be this easy.
“What’s your opening offer?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No, it’s your opening offer. I can only give you the names of your parents. But you… you could give me back everything you’ve taken from me.”
The offer is surprisingly tempting. I never wanted Corvus, at least not beyond what was in the archives. The company means nothing to me. It’s just a burden I have to take apart and sell off. Like scrap.
“That won’t happen. But I’m willing to make some kind of deal.” The Bastards would kill me if I simply handed the company back to Fuchs. But I can give him something. Something small. “Maybe…” I shrug. “Maybe this house. You can keep living here.”
Fuchs laughs in my face. “A house? For your parents? No, I know exactly how valuable that information is to you. You gave yourself away when you took over the company.”
My face goes cold. He’s right—with all the effort I expended to acquire Corvus, he knows exactly how badly I want those names. How it’s eaten at me all these years. How I haven’t been able to find a single damn thing on my own.
I’m so goddamn vulnerable it hurts. A fiery ball of pure pain erupts in my gut.
But I keep bargaining. “Fine, this house and Hanult’s. I know you want that.” I don’t tell him we found Pippa there—I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure she escapes him.
“Two houses versus a lifetime of never knowing your parents?” He’s mocking me now, and I can’t hide my reaction to that—fearful, angry. My entire face has begun to tremble. “No. All of Corvus or nothing.”
“Dev.” Anjelica’s voice is imploring. I can’t see her, but I hear the pleading. “You don’t have to do this. You have the archives. We can keep searching them.”
“Good luck,” Fuchs says. “It’s buried deep. So deep you may never find it.”
“We found the USB key in your office,” Anjelica snaps back. “So don’t underestimate us.”
“And what you wanted wasn’t on there.” Fuchs focuses on me, dismissing Anjelica. “You’ll never find it without me. You know that, which is why you came to find me.”
He’s right. But he already has too much power here. I need leverage. “She’s right. We could just leave you here.” I give him another shake to emphasize the point, to remind him who’s holding who.
Fuchs doesn’t even blink. “No, you can’t. I can walk away—I’ve got nothing left to lose. But you’d do anything to not lose your parents again.”
There’s a long moment of silence while his words sink in. I can’t deny his claims. I need those names. As much as I need Anjelica. Maybe even more, because I haven’t been deprived of her my entire life.
“The entire company,” Fuchs says. “Take it or leave it. Wonder forever. I don’t care. In fact, I like that idea. Maybe I won’t tell you after all. Even if you do offer me the company.”
The blind panic that hits me at that is all encompassing. It really is blind—my vision grays out.
“No.” That comes out without thought. Even Anjelica’s gasp, her reaching for me, can’t stop it. “The company is yours. Just give me the names.”
I let go of him, step back. He sags against the wall, his shirt wrinkled. He should look pathetic, defeated. He once ruled the tech world, but now he’s hiding in a small, unremarkable suburb.
But the light in his eyes is anything but pathetic. Because he knows he can rule the tech world again. I sold him an entire company, and all for two names. Names of people who are probably already dead.
I don’t regret it though. Those names are me. Finally I’ll receive them and be whole.
Anjelica has her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. Once we have the names, I’ll explain. When we find my parents, together, she’ll see that this was right. That this is my happy ending. It’s what I’ve always wanted.
Fuchs slowly straightens up, deliberately pulling his shirt back into place, settling his pants around his waist. It shouldn’t be as menacing as it is.
“The names,” I say. “I want them now. You have what you want.”
He laughs. Out of all the ugly things he’s ever done, that laugh is the ugliest thing yet. It makes my stomach turn, reminds me of every lonely moment I’ve ever had. And there have been a lot.
“The names.” Fuchs shakes his head, like he can’t believe how stupid I am. “The names.”
I wait. We made a deal—I won’t beg. Besides, I still hold the company. Nothing’s binding. My heart won’t slow down though.
Fuchs adjusts his glasses. “There are no names. Never were.”
“What?” I know what he said, my brain processed it, but I won’t be
lieve it. “You said you had them.”
“I lied.”
He’s so goddamn matter-of-fact I know he’s telling the truth. That all this time I’d believed in a lie, probably made up spur of the moment to win me to his cause. He wanted my skills and that was it.
“There was never any information about your parents anywhere,” he says. My hands curl and uncurl, one moment a fist, one moment open. “I only offered that to see how low you’d kneel—pretty low, it turns out. I did look for them, because it would have been useful leverage, but there was nothing. Unless they come forward, they’ll never be found. And clearly they don’t want to be. They don’t want you. Never did.”
Somewhere beyond the white noise of rage building in me, my mind is calculating angles, distances. The distance of the fireplace poker to my hand. The angle I’d need to swing it at to connect with his skull. How far he might fall before I can raise it again, swing again.
Those thoughts are wrong. I’m not a murderer. But I want to. I want to avenge my parents, as insane as it sounds.
Something breaks through though. Through the heat of my rage and the coolness of my calculations. A tug, the smallest sensation. At the small of my back and at my shoulder. Graceful, beautiful hands I know all too well. Hands that are pulling me back to reality.
“Dev, it’s not worth it.”
Oh, but it is. What else is left? Finding my parents was everything. And now there’s nothing.
Another tug. I take a deep, shuddering breath. Then another.
Fuchs comes into focus first. He’s afraid now, fear stark in his eyes. His nose is bleeding too. I don’t remember doing that.
“He took them.” Is that me? I’ve never sounded that gravelly.
“He didn’t,” Anjelica says with infinite sadness. “They were never there.”
That pierces the last of my fog. She’s right—I’ve been searching for something that never existed. My parents… they were never there.
I turn and walk out, as empty as when I walked in.
Chapter 23
Dev has disappeared.
It’s been three days since we found Fuchs—and didn’t find Dev’s parents—and I haven’t seen him since he walked out of Fuchs’s house.
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