Little Black Box Set (The Black Trilogy)

by Tabatha Vargo

  His honesty about his affair was crucial if I was going to work with him. I refused to work with a person who wasn’t upfront with all the details.

  Mitchell was easy. Even without research, I would have been able to peg him for the lowlife money chaser he was. However, even with my top-notch detective skills and the use of the information highway of the internet, I was unable to find much on his fiancée.

  Gwyneth Petrova.

  Daughter of billionaire business owner Avel Petrova, as in Avel Petrova of Petrova Technologies, one of the world’s leading providers of safety and cybersecurity.

  Men with that kind of money who knew as much about cybersecurity as Avel did had the capability to do many things. Including wiping someone’s information from the net. I supposed if I had a daughter and I was worth billions, I’d make sure nothing could be found online about her either.

  Aside from knowing she was a board member at Savannah Hope, there wasn’t much outside of her volunteer work. I couldn’t find anything about her until she turned eighteen, but even then, it was article after article about the fundraisers she hosted to raise money for the children’s ward. Only posed pictures and her smile was always tight, telling me she didn’t like the spotlight but she went with it if it meant raising awareness for the kids.

  I didn’t let the lack of personal info deter me. The information I required went far beyond her birthdate and physical features. I needed all the important details I could get if I was going to do my job correctly. I needed to know what she was like. What she enjoyed. Stupid things like her favorite flower and color. All the ridiculous shit that brought women to their knees.

  Women were suckers for a man who paid attention and listened. Knowing her favorites would reveal her soft spots, and from there, I could learn which buttons to press and which ones to avoid.

  Sitting in front of me was the man who should know all the answers to every question I had about Gwyneth, but looking at him and seeing how frequently he smoothed his overly gelled hair and checked himself out in the reflection of the window into the coffee shop, I knew he wasn’t going to be much help.

  He probably knew even less about his fiancée than I did. Her likes and dislikes—her cravings—her desires. He’d been fucking her for the past two years, and I would bet my entire bank account that he had never once satisfied her.

  I’d learn everything about her. I’d know every spot that brought her to her knees, and once I slid inside her and showed her what a real man was capable of, I would be golden.

  Until then, I needed the basics. Anything he could dig up from his inattentive brain.

  “Also, while I’m being honest, there’s someone else.” He grinned.

  I didn’t.

  Fifty percent of the time, my clients had found what they thought was someone better. Fifty percent of the time, my client was trying to get out of their current relationship so they could enter another.

  I’d come to accept that eighty-five percent of the population were cheaters. That might not have been an official percentage, but when you did what I did, you saw more than the average person. People cheated; I didn’t give a fuck either way. I didn’t have those kinds of fucks anymore to give.

  Instead, I got rich.

  I was now their ringleader, but I hadn’t always been this man. I was once the idiot—the one bowing to the needs of my woman—giving myself to her mind, body, and soul. But like the unfortunate significant others of my clients, I walked in and found the love of my life riding reverse cowgirl on my best friend.

  Needless to say, it changed me.

  And now, I get paid to break hearts. It’s an appropriate career, considering.

  “So you’re having an affair?” I asked for clarification I didn’t need.

  “Yes.”

  We quieted as the waitress set his cup of coffee down and smiled my way. Once she left us, I continued my questioning.

  “Tell me about Gwyneth and her father.”

  I caught him off guard with the use of his fiancée’s name, but he stuttered over himself as he went on.

  “Her name’s Gwyneth Petrova, uh, which you know, obviously. Her father, Avel Petrova, is the king of computer security and built his company, Petrova Technologies, from nothing,” he started.

  All things I knew already. As I listened, I considered the massive amount I would charge him for this little farce. I was looking to more than double my last payment of fifty thousand, and with Mitchell, I knew that was a possibility.

  “We’ve been together for two years. I started at Petrova Technologies a year before I met Gwyn. I worked as a software designer, and I’m damn good at my job. Avel thought so too and sort of took me under his wing. He introduced me to Gwyn, and at first, everything was great, but now … I worked hard to get where I am, and I don’t want to lose all that because of Gwyn.”

  In other words, he was choosing his job and his new model girlfriend over her.

  None of my fucking business.

  “You have to understand,” he continued. “Things were different when I met Gwyn. My wants have changed, and hers haven’t. When I asked her to marry me, I was a different man.” He ran his fingers through his dark hair in aggravation. “She wants kids, for fuck’s sake. Kids! I’m not ready for that, man.”

  All I heard was, I used her to climb my way to the top and now that I’m there, I no longer need or want her.

  Typical.

  Also, not my fucking business.

  “And the woman you’re having an affair with ... does she know you’re engaged?”

  He nodded. “She does. I’ve promised to break it off, and that’s what I intend to do. Marissa, the woman … well, you know, she wants the same things I want. We have the same needs. Gwyn’s a special girl, but she doesn’t excite me the way Marissa does. She’s boring, and the fire isn’t there anymore.”

  I didn’t need to hear any more. I had the gist of the situation.

  “You don’t have to try to make me understand,” I said, leaning back in my seat and eyeing him. “It’s not my place to judge, and if I’m being honest, I don’t care enough to, but I can do what you’re asking.”

  And I could.

  Of that, I was sure.

  I had yet to meet a woman I couldn’t charm. I’d honed my skills over the years, making women fall for me quicker and quicker with each client I worked for. I was positive, based on what Mitchell had told me, I could have his fiancée in bed in two weeks.

  If he was taken aback by my directness, he didn’t show it. Good, I wasn’t here to baby anyone. We were both grown men.

  “Good. What’s the next step?” he asked.

  He was eager, which meant I’d squeeze top dollar from him.

  “I’ll need all her information. I’ll need to know her schedule, so I can bump into her and establish contact. I need to know what she likes, doesn’t like.”

  Usually, I didn’t require this type of information from my clients, but with Gwyneth, it was different since she was basically nonexistent thanks to her father and his company.

  “Okay, well.” He licked his lips, and his face pinched while he thought about something that should have been easy. “She works at the hospital. Those damn kids are all she talks about. She’s there with them a lot. With work so crazy right now, I’m not sure her exact schedule, but I’ll get it.” He snapped his fingers. “There’s a café she likes that she goes to at least three to four times a week.”

  I nodded. “Well, that’s a start. Can you get me the name of the café? Do you think she’ll be there tomorrow?”

  “I’m sure she will be.”

  “What time does she leave the apartment in the morning?”

  Again, he struggled to think of the answer. “I think around eight.”

  “Good. I’ll be there at seven thirty just to be sure it’s not earlier.”

  “Do you need the address?”

  “Nope.” I smiled tightly.

  “You’ve really done your homewor
k.”

  “This isn’t my first time.”

  He laughed. “Of course, not.”

  I stood from the table, prepared to leave and get started. He stood, as well.

  “Wait, that’s it?”

  “That’s it. I’ll email you the invoice. You’ll be required to pay half up front, and then the other half once you’ve caught us. You email me the basics, and once payment has been received, I’ll get started.”

  I walked away feeling lighter than I had in weeks.

  My last client wasn’t as rich as Mitchell could potentially be, and I’d managed fifty grand out of him. It would be different with Mitchell Summerton. I could smell the money in his cologne and see it in the clothes he wore.

  The look in his eye when we talked about business also told me he was willing to pay whatever it took to shake loose from his fiancée without screwing up his prospects at Petrova Technologies.

  Therefore, his invoice would be significantly more.

  Not to mention, he was a fucking douche, which meant he deserved to bleed money for his freedom.

  TWO

  GWYNETH

  Spending time with the kids at Savannah Hope Hospital was the highlight of my day. Thanks to my dad, I didn’t technically have to work, but I enjoyed my position on the Savannah Hope Foundation board of directors. Working directly with the hospital meant I could spend as much time as I wanted with the children.

  Originally, I was only a part of the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the hospital’s grand opening. My father had donated millions of dollars to the creation of the pediatric wing, and I was the one to hand over the check.

  That afternoon, I found myself inside with the kids who would benefit from my father’s donation, and from that point on, I was hooked. They’d stolen my heart—pulled me in with their innocent smiles—and begged me to spend time with them without ever saying a word.

  Something about the kids in the pediatric wing of Savannah Hope had become my weakness. They reminded me of someone very special to me—my baby sister. I’d watched my little sister, Alexis, slowly wither away until she wasn’t the carefree, loving little girl she once was. The money was donated in Alexis’s name.

  After a day of meetings and some time at the hospital volunteering, I went home with aching feet and a throbbing back. I wasn’t old, but I gave my all alongside the doctors and nurses, some days getting on my knees to play with a three-year-old with cancer. Or a six-year-old who’d just had a heart transplant.

  My job wasn’t hard, and volunteering was a joy, but no matter how tired I thought I was or how much my muscles ached at the end of the day—I knew I had it easy. Chemo at the age of four was hard. Six surgeries in one year for an eight-year-old was hard.

  My job, it wasn’t hard because tomorrow I would still be healthy, and they would still be sick.

  Tossing my keys on the table by the door, I slipped off my flats and went into the kitchen where I found Mitchell leaning into the refrigerator.

  “How was your day?” I asked.

  He jumped at my voice, slamming the back of his head into the top of the refrigerator.

  “Shit,” he hissed, rubbing his smarting head.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  He swiped a bottle of water from the top shelf and closed the refrigerator.

  “It’s okay. I wasn’t expecting you home this early.”

  I didn’t bother to look down at my watch to know I was home at the same time I usually was. But Mitchell wouldn’t know that because he was never home this early.

  Lately, Mitchell always had something work-related that needed one hundred percent of his attention, and it managed to be something that kept him out until all hours of the night.

  For the past six months—four of those I had spent engaged to Mitchell—things had changed dramatically between us. I chalked it up to Mitchell’s promotion, wedding planning, and just everyday stress, but there was something more, and I couldn’t figure it out.

  Or maybe I didn’t care enough to?

  I loved Mitchell, I knew that much, but the less time he had for me, the more I became lazier in our relationship. We’d been together for two years, and when I thought about our relationship in the beginning, I barely recognized who we’d become as a couple now.

  From the first time my father introduced us, I’d known he and I were completely different people. Mitchell was career driven to the max. He was a little on the selfish side and one hundred percent competitive with everyone … including me.

  After our first encounter, I hadn’t given Mitchell another thought, to my father’s disappointment, but that didn’t stop him from pursuing me. In fact, nothing I said or did deterred him, and after a month, I finally gave in and went out with him.

  He’d been charming and sweet, and he could make me laugh, which was a big deal. One date led to another and then another, and after four months, we decided to be exclusive. Despite the things I wished were different about Mitchell, he made me happy, and I had slowly fallen in love with him.

  My father had been more than happy about the growing development between Mitchell and me … his words, not mine. From the very beginning, this was what he’d hoped for. It made me happy to know my father was happy. After everything we’d been through when Alexis passed, I loved seeing him smile again. That made it much easier to fall for Mitchell.

  Now, I didn’t know what I felt for him or our relationship. I wasn’t happy anymore, and something was desperately missing from our connection. I’d hoped that after accepting his proposal, we’d get back on track and things would go back to the way they’d been in the beginning, but I was wrong and left wondering if I’d made the biggest mistake of my life by agreeing to marry him.

  I thought about calling off the engagement, but I felt like I was giving up too easily. I’d become just as distant and distracted as Mitchell had, so I couldn’t completely blame him for the lack of spark between us. Before I entertained the idea of leaving Mitchell further, I needed to know I at least gave it everything—even if I was the only one giving.

  Mitchell was busy on his phone, completely unfazed by my lack of response to his comment or my silent trip down memory lane. I could probably walk out of the room without another word and escape to the bedroom without him even noticing. But I promised to give it my all, and the fact we were both home tonight was a good time to start.

  “My father wasn’t being a slave driver tonight, was he?” I joked with a smile.

  I was still holding a box of handmade gifts from a few of the kids at the hospital, so I walked to the kitchen island and set the box down on the counter.

  “Huh?” He looked up from his phone to frown at me. “No, of course not. Please don’t tell me you ever call him that to his face. I don’t want him to think I complain about my workload.” His attention dropped to his phone again.

  I sighed.

  This was already starting off badly.

  I took a deep breath and tried again. “I was joking, Mitchell.”

  “Oh, sorry.” He pushed a button and set his phone down on the counter. “I guess I’m a little stressed. I didn’t mean to take that out on you.” He smiled and took a drink of his water.

  His softening mood gave me the encouragement I needed to continue.

  “I’m happy you’re home actually. It’s been a while since we’ve had dinner together. Maybe we could order in?”

  “Oh, umm ...”

  “It’s been forever since we’ve had an actual conversation, Mitchell. You could tell me about work, and I could tell you about the hospital.”

  I knew that was the last thing he would want to hear or talk about, but it was important to me, and he needed to know that. I always encouraged and supported his career, so it was only fair he did the same for me. Especially if in just a few more months, we would be husband and wife.

  He smiled and pushed away from the counter to lean on the island too. We hadn’t been this close in forever, and suddenly,
I missed being intimate with Mitchell. Like everything else, our sex life was suffering, and maybe that was what we needed to get back on track.

  “That actually sounds like a brilliant idea. Chinese?”

  “That sounds heavenly.”

  “Why don’t you go change, take a shower and wash away that hospital smell.” He crinkled his nose in disgust. I tried desperately to ignore the tightening in my chest at his words and forced a smile on my face. “And then we’ll relax with a nice bottle of wine.”

  “I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

  Stepping under the hot stream of water instantly soothed my nerves. For some reason, I was feeling nervous about tonight and how it would end. Wanting to rekindle whatever was missing between Mitchell and me wasn’t going to be easy or an overnight fix.

  While I wanted to leisurely stand and enjoy the hot water, I didn’t. Quickly, I washed my hair and shaved. Even during our dry spell, I’d made sure to keep myself presentable. There was no need to feel worse just because I wasn’t getting attention from Mitchell.

  I hadn’t expected sex with all his late nights at the office, but it made me feel better about myself that I hadn’t let myself go. Most nights, I was too tired to do anything, even if Mitchell was around, but others, I became desperate enough to fulfill my own pleasure.

  Getting out of the shower, I dried off and went in search of something comfortable in my closet. I wanted casual but still appealing. I finally decided on leggings and a low-cut top—I felt sexy but comfortable. I ran a comb through my hair and then tied it in a knot on top of my head.

  I dabbed a few drops of Mitchell’s favorite perfume in all the right places and then surveyed myself in the mirror. I was happy with what I saw, and I hoped Mitchell was too.

  I met Mitchell in the living room just as he was opening a bottle of wine. Two wine glasses were set on the table, and he started to pour the red liquid into one of the glasses.

  “Looks like I’m just in time.” I smiled up at him.

  “Perfect timing. Dinner should be here any minute. I ordered from that place you love.”

  “The Golden Dragon?”