He nods and walks off, and I head back toward the office where I drop into the chair and pull out my phone, intending to check in with Riley, but a notification catches my eye first.
It's a security notification from the hidden home surveillance system I have set up at the safehouse. There was camera activity out front of the house, which isn't entirely unheard of if a bird or stray dog flits past. But it says motion detected for more than one minute straight, which definitely is out of the ordinary.
I tap on the first notification—because at second glance there are multiple alerts here—and the video loads. The timestamp shows this afternoon while I was here going over shipment details. The camera angle shows the back door of the safehouse, the one that leads out to the small deck. The door is propped open, and one of my guards steps outside with a cigarette in his hand. He walks to the edge of the deck and turns his back to the camera, exhaling smoke into the cold air.
Then Riley appears in the doorway.
My chest tightens and my eyes narrow as I focus in on the tiny screen. I can see her eyes are wide, her face pale, and she's holding something in her hand. Keys?
I watch for a moment as she retreats back inside the house and vanishes but Feodor stands there smoking his cigarette like he never noticed her watching him.
It doesn't appear like much else happens on this camera angle, so I flick to the second camera angle—the front door—and pull the status bar across until the red bar is highlighted, indicating the camera recording movement. For a few seconds nothing shows on the screen, but then Riley's there, stomping through the snow with no coat on, and those same damn keys are in her hand.
I lean forward, my eyes locked on the screen. My stomach drops as I watch her stomping through the snowpack toward Feodor's car, and I think I might scream.
She's gonna run? Or she has run. This was over an hour ago and I never noticed it because I'm too busy doing my rounds here.
Riley reaches the car and stands there with her hand on the door handle. The seconds tick by on the timestamp but she doesn't move. She just stands there, staring at the car, and even though her back is to the camera I can see her shoulders hunch like she's conflicted.
"Don't do it," I whisper. "Fuck, Riley, don't do that to me."
If she runs, Sal will never in a million years accept that I want her, even if I can find her and drag her back. And what does that say about her devotion to me if she did?
My head hurts, and my heart is hammering in my temples. I watch the entire clip that lasts more than five minutes while Riley stands there, and then she turns around and walks back toward the house, where she disappears through the door.
Then she's gone, no longer in any camera's frame, and I flick to the other view to make sure. But even Feodor doesn't seem upset by anything. He finishes his cigarette a few minutes later and walks in the back door, and that's the end of my alerts.
"Holy fuck," I groan, dragging a hand across my face to smooth out the frustration and tension.
I set the phone down on the desk and lean back in the chair, staring at the ceiling. My pulse is pounding in my ears, and I feel something crack open in my chest.
Riley had the chance to get in Feodor's car and run away and she stayed. But why the fuck didn’t she run? She's been begging me to leave, and the honest fact is she did think about it. She thought about it long and hard enough to take his keys somehow and go to that car. And then she changed her mind.
But why?
My brain tries to spin a dozen feverish tales of why she'd just turn around and walk back inside, but my gut and my heart know the truth.
Riley loves me. She has to.
That's why she's been covering my tracks without my asking her. It's why even when I really hurt her, she forgave me and let me climb into that bed with her again. And it's why she had every chance in the world to get in that car and drive away, but she chose to stay.
I hear someone clearing their throat and look up to see my uncle standing in the doorway. I requested the meeting after deciding I had to do this, and Riley's choice to turn back and stay in that safehouse where I left her has now energized me beyond belief.
"Uncle Sal," I say, standing, and a giddy smile stretches across my face. I'm not a smiling sort of guy, but I can't stop. She loves me. And this meeting is going to change everything for us.
He waves me back down and takes the seat across from the desk. "The shipment looks good. Your men say everything's ready to move tonight."
"It is." I sit, relaxing in the chair but suddenly anxious to get this conversation over with so I can go tell Riley how incredible she is.
"Good. That's one problem handled." He leans back in the chair and folds his hands in his lap. "Now let's talk about the other one."
I know what he means before he says it. "Riley."
"Yes, Riley." Sal eyes me for a few seconds, and I get the feeling he's going to make me drag this out miserably if I don’t just cough it up, so I suck in a breath and start.
"I want her, Uncle Sal. And I don't mean I want an asset in my pocket." I'm being bold speaking plainly with him, but I know he respects men who speak their minds openly. "I want her in my bed, in my life, and I want you to accept that she's not leaving my side." My chest puffs out slightly and I see the faintest hint of a smirk across his face before he sobers.
"Tell me why."
