Ifrown as I stare down in utter annoyance. Irritation heats my face, and a throbbing headache begins to form at the front of my forehead.
“Keenan . . . why won’t you answer?” My grumble fills my office, and I swivel side to side in my office chair, agitated beyond belief. This isn’t like him. No matter what time it is, regardless of what he’s doing, Keenan always makes it a point to answer the phone.
Running my hand through my hair, I debate if I should keep calling him. He hasn’t answered, which is odd for sure, but I feel the need to try deep in my bones. I tap the call button again and hold my phone to my ear. I hold my breath in anticipation. “Come on, come on.”
But Keenan doesn’t answer, and I scoff lightly as I toss my phone onto my desk. Disgruntledness coats my mouth in a thick film. What could he be doing that he wouldn’t take one of my several calls? The question runs through my mind in circles, and I pause my nervous swiveling and huff. Now I’m getting worried. I’m not even annoyed at this point, I’m terrified something happened. He’s been shot before and he could be hurt. He could be in an alley having a seizure. I don’t fucking know . . . but what I do know is that he has people in that house all the time. I don’t think he’d be anywhere alone, and if he was hurt, someone would’ve called me by now. Delaney did mention Luca was in town, so maybe he’s just out with Luca.
Snatching my phone off the desk, I call Keenan again, praying that this time he’ll answer. Holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder, I lean on my desk to hold my breath. It’s no surprise when it goes to voicemail, again.
I grunt and toss my phone on my desk. Throwing myself back, waving my hands in the air in frustration. What the hell is going on? Glancing at the clock on the wall, I sit up as my lunch hour gradually ticks to a close. Sure, I took it late enough that it’ll be time to head home soon, but the day was extremely busy. Wiggling the mouse, I unlock my computer and grind my molars miserably.
“So much for taking my break together.” I frown sharply.
Keenan has been blowing me off all morning when he was the one that suggested I reach out before I took my break. Sure, it’s not around lunchtime, but again, he’s the one who suggested it. God, this is frustrating. No, this is far worse a case of airheadedness than that now afflicts me. I shake my head. I can’t be upset with him when I did the same thing not too long ago.
Guilt crawls up my throat.
The phone on my desk rings insistently, and I blink hard as I snap out of my thoughts. That’s right. I’m still at work. I have to worry about Keenan later. Snatching the phone off the receiver, I hold it to my ear and take a calming breath.
“This is Delilah.”
I wince at the excited squeal on the line, pulling the phone away from my ear hastily. Goosebumps blanket my arms and across my chest. Staring wide-eyed at the phone, my mouth dries. Haisley talks too fast to be understood at first, and I wait for her to pause to take a breath before speaking up. “Haisley, what the hell? What’s got you all riled up?”
“It’s back!” Haisley squawks. “All the money that we gathered was stolen . . . it’s all back! Every single bit of it! Even more than that. More than what we found gone! It’s all been returned!”
“What! I’ll be right there!” I slam the phone down on the receiver to rush out of my office. My heart hammers in my chest. Anxiety curdles my blood in my veins, and my gut churns. It’s been returned? How? How is that even possible? All the money that was gone, just got randomly dumped back into the accounts, or was it the main account? What the . . . fuck, none of this makes sense. Running full tilt, I ignore the curious looks of the people outside my office door and dart over to Haisley’s office.
Haisley hangs out of her office door, her face flushed and eyes sparkling brilliantly as she waves at me.
“Delilah! It’s back. Look at this!” she gasps, and I follow her around her desk to stare at her computer screen. The influx of money lights up the screen bright green, and I cover my mouth in shock. “More than we suspected was missing, but I’m not surprised. My team and I are still going back through years’ worth of statements, but I suspect it’s all there. We can straighten out the books, sweep this entire thing under the rug. Now, even if it is discovered, we can prove the money was reimbursed, and it’ll cover the charity completely.”
“Oh, God. This has to be the best outcome there could’ve been,” I whisper hoarsely in disbelief. I shake my head sluggishly, and Haisley looks back at me to do a double take, her smile faltering. “Wait. Oh, no. Oh, no! This is bad, Haisley! We have the money, but how are we going to get it where it needs to go to even out the books!” I’m not an accountant, so I don’t know how any of this works. Will a transfer of this size flag anyone?
“What do you mean? I’ll redistribute it to where it was originally supposed to go over the course of a year or so, and we’ll claim a clerical error or wrong account information entered,” Haisley says, her elation seeping from her face. “Why’re you upset? This is perfect for you, Delilah. Now, you don’t have to worry about any of this becoming a huge scandal. You can issue a press release and make up any story you want to cover your arse.”
“The problem isn’t the cover story, Haisley.” I stumble back in shock, dropping into a chair propped up against the wall. Covering my face with my hand, I can’t breathe under the immense pressure weighing down on my chest. Something isn’t right, and fear boils in my gut. This doesn’t make sense, and the fact it doesn’t plagues my mind.
“I don’t get it. Of course, that’s the problem.”
“No, no, no. The problem is my father wouldnevergive the money up or admit he’d done anything wrong.” I shake my head and cover my eyes with my hand, turning my head away. Rubbing my palm down my face, a cold clamminess clashes with the heat of my confusion and irritation. Covering my trembling lips with my knuckles, I shake my head again. “No. He wouldn’t just give it up. He certainly wouldn’t return it. Something happened . . . somethingbadhad to happen to make him give it all back.” I know my father better than most people, and he never backs down. He only backs down if he feels horribly threatened or like there’s no other feasible option.
“You think he was bulldogged into it somehow?” she asks, worry lacing her tone.
“I don’t honestly know. I haven’t talked to him since all this started. He’s been studiously ignoring me, like a child, because he’s mad I wouldn’t let him keep getting away with it. He wouldn’t answer my calls, won’t answer the door . . . just acted like I wasn’t trying to save us both,” I trail off and sigh a shaky breath. “I don’t know, Haisley. I think, either someone got to his accounts and took pity on me, or something happened that scared him straight. Maybe, a donor found out and decided to send someone after him?”
“Do you think he deals with people that are dangerous?” Worry infects her tone, and I nod firmly without hesitation. Turning back to the computer monitor, Haisley frowns under tightly knit brows. She rubs her head as the silence prickles along my skin. “I don’t know. Most of the donors are the usual suspects, Delilah. And this account is one of the ones we identified as a dump for the skims.”
“I have to get him to talk to me,” I declare, standing up on stiff legs. “Even though my father is a piece of shit, he’s still my father. I might even be able to help him if he needs it.”
“Despite everything he’s done?” Haisley interrupts, jumping to her feet to block me with arms wide and legs spread. Her expression reddens, and I gasp in surprise. “You really think after weeks of ignoring you, vilifying you over his own misdeeds, he’ll talk to you now? Delilah, your father stolemillionsof euros over decades. He knew theentiretime what he was doing was illegal, that it could land him in trouble. And he made you COO knowing that then, you’d be blamed too. He knowingly put you in the firing line, and you want to help him? Why in the bloody hell do you want to save his arse? Whatever’s coming to him, he deserves it.”
“I know that,” my admission dries my lips, and I lick them heavily, “but whatever he’s done, whatever changed his mind . . . I know it wasn’t a sudden meeting with Jesus Christ in a dream. Someone forced him to do this. I need to figure out if that person is after me too, Haisley. Helping him would be helping me.”
“I-I mean, yeah, but I still think it’s a bad idea. We should just take this and work it quietly, Delilah. If your father really wants to talk to you, he’ll reach out. You shouldn’t expect him to act any different because he had a change of heart.” Haisley grips my shoulders as she speaks, her tone laced with the same firmness in her stare when they lock on mine. “Please, be careful. Whoever got your father to give the money back . . . they’re enough to make him scared. I doubt it’s someone you want to get involved with, even if they did you a favor. It opens up the question . . . why did they return the money and not steal it themselves?”
“I intend to ask. I’ll be careful, Haisley. Okay, start on the redistribution plan. I’ll review it next week. That’s enough time, right?” I ask, and Haisley nods before letting me go. Squaring my shoulders, I jerk my head and pull my hair into a tight ponytail before leaving her office. I get back to my office, and almost everyone is gone for the day. So, I grab my phone, turn off my computer, and throw my purse over my shoulder.
I call for a car instead of driving because I’m too emotional right now. If I decided to drive right now, I’d be a risk to everyone. The car arrives relatively quickly, and the ride to my father’s house is too fast to remember. Suddenly, the car stops, and I climb out of the back seat to stare at the large drive. Worry tingles my fingertips. My father’s car is still here. Walking up past the gate to the front door, I hold up my hand only to pause.
