"Good man…" That tiny vote of confidence carries him out of the room, leaving me alone in the silence. I sit there for a moment, staring at the empty chairs, the scattered papers, the view of the industrial district beyond the windows. The crushing weight of what I'm facing seems to pin me down, and I feel the exhaustion creeping in at the edges.
But I force myself to stand and walk out into the hallway. The corporate office is quiet this time of day, most of the staff at lunch or in meetings of their own. I pass the break room, the copy room, the rows of cubicles where accountants and analysts work through spreadsheets and reports. None of them know what this company really does or that the man sitting in the corner office is a criminal.
Riley's sitting at my desk when I walk into my office, her eyes locked on the dual monitors in front of her. Feodor stands by the window with arms crossed, and he glances at me when I walk in but doesn't speak.
And Riley doesn't look up. She's focused diligently on her work, the way she has been ever since I fucked her two nights ago. I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way her jaw tightens every time she pauses to read something on the screen. I feel like it gets more intense every time I see her, like she retreats inwardly to avoid having small talk with me. It's almost painful to watch her become a husk of herself all because I made her come.
"How's it going?" I ask.
She doesn't answer right away. Her fingers keep moving, typing commands I don't understand, pulling up files and cross-referencing data. Finally, she leans back in the chair and exhales.
"It's going," she says, "slowly."
I walk around the desk and look at the screen. Lines of code scroll past, interspersed with spreadsheets and transaction logs. It's a mess, disorganized and incomplete, and I can see why she's frustrated.
"The accounts are frozen," I say. "The Feds have ledger pages from the banker. They're investigating the company."
Her eyes finally meet mine and I get to see those green flecks in her hazel eyes that I admire. "I know. Feodor told me."
"I need you to find out what's on those pages."
Her expression doesn't change. "How?"
"Hack into the federal database. Find the files they recovered from Enzo's property. Figure out what the banker sold and what they know."
I expect some rebellious comment, some snarky or rude, demeaning way of refusing my words, but she starts laughing. And it's not a light chuckle. It's a deep belly laugh that sounds genuine and not forced at all.
"You're joking," she says.
"I'm not."
"Rafe, I can't hack the federal government." Her expression sobers and she sits straighter, narrowing her eyes at me in what I've come to respect is her way of saying she thinks I'm stupid.
"You hacked the bank. You forged federal shipping permits. You've done everything else I've asked."
"That was different." She stands and crosses her arms. "The bank was one system. The shipping permits were backdated files. But you're asking me to break into a federal database.Do you understand what that means? Do you understand the security protocols, the firewalls, the monitoring systems they have in place?"
"I understand that we need to know what they have."
"Then find someone else to do it. Because I can't. I'm not that good."
Her words are blunt and definitive, and for a moment, I feel the anger flare in my chest. She's refusing me. She knows I can make one call to end her sister's life and she's looking me dead in the eye and telling me no. No one tells me no.
But then I see the fear in her eyes and it's not fear of me. She's afraid of getting caught and crossing a line she can't come back from.
I step back and exhale slowly. "You're sure."
"Look, if I try to hack the federal government, I will get caught. And when I get caught, they'll trace it back here. To you. To this office. Is that what you want?" One eyebrow rises in a protest and question at the same time.
I don't answer because she's right. I know she's right. But the frustration gnaws at me anyway, the feeling of being cornered with no way out.
"Fine," I say. "If we can't stop the Feds from digging into the ledger pages, at least we can make sure they don't find anything else when they look at our accounts."
She sits back down with a defeated sigh and I turn to go.
"Stay with her," I say to Feodor. "I'll be back in an hour."
He nods, and I walk out of the office, closing the door behind me.
