“I thought maybe I could keep this all from you. That I’d have you do admin work, plan the gala. But, but…” He trails off, and I desperately want to pry the words from his beautiful lips. “I need you away from all this. I won’t put you in danger anymore.”
His words sting more than I want them to. I know him, though. Don’t I? This is his fear speaking. His fear for me. His need to protect that which is precious to him. Just as he’s trying to protect his brother and the charities.
Have I become that important to him?
I still don’t have the evidence I need, but somehow that isn’t why I’m upset. Maybe I don’t want to admit it to myself, but now that I’m being forced out, perhaps it’s time I face it.
He’s not the villain. He’s not who I’m after. Not anymore.
What’s worse is that Ella’s right. I am falling for him. Ihavealready fallen.
“I’ll resign if you want me to, but at least let me finish the gala. You owe me that much,” I barely get the words out.
He doesn’t say anything for so long, I fear he won’t say anything at all. “Until the gala. But I’m assigning you private security until it’s over.”
I nod, not wanting to fight him on it.
His eyes dart to the pastry bag sitting under my left hand. “You going to finish that?” he asks with a half-smile.
I cock my head to the side. “Why? You want the rest?”
“Only if you don’t want it.”
I snort. “You’re impossible. You’re giving me whiplash. One second you’re getting me a pastry, then you’re firing me, then you’re asking to eat the rest of said pastry.”
Owen looks at me thoughtfully, and the corner of his mouth kicks up. I can’t help but stare. “It’s you, Miss Riley, who is throwing me off my game.”
“Yes, it’s all my fault.” I roll my eyes, aiming to stuff the rest of the pastry into my mouth when he swipes it from me. It instantly disappears behind his lips as he jumps up from the corner of my desk and steps back. He dramatically chews and audibly swallows.
“I’m going to kill you.” I stand up.
Owen races for the door. “You can later. I’m late.”
He laughs and hurries to his next meeting, not giving me a chance to protest or try to catch him.
Chapter 20
We spend the rest of the week focused mainly on work. The last-minute gala prep has me scrambling to complete my tasks. Owen and I barely see each other, his meetings keeping him away as well.
Our early morning sparring sessions are nothing more than that, though they are the only thing keeping us both sane. Owen doesn’t try to kiss me again. He barely touches me, only hitting me when needed during our gym sessions. I can’t tell if I’m grateful or angry about it. Neither of us has mentioned what happened, and suddenly I’m questioning the whole thing.
Gray and Noah both come up empty-handed on information regarding who is targeting Owen, which doesn’t help my frustration. We’re getting no closer to finding out what is going on, or to finding the evidence I’m supposed to be searching for. Declan has been nothing but persistent about it every night. I keep deflecting, but I don’t know how much longer I will be able to.
My dreams are becoming more vivid but no less confusing. I wake every morning drenched in sweat and shaking from head to toe. The whole incident was a setup, that much is clear. But a setup for who? Was it specifically to attack someone at the market? Me? Someone else? Was it a drug deal gone wrong? Or was it a decoy? A way to keep eyes off of what was really going on?
The latter keeps my brain occupied for hours. There were at least twenty shooters stationed throughout the market. They waited until my target got almost all the way out before they started shooting. The bullets were aimed mainly in my direction.
What was around me? I can’t quite seem to remember. There was a clothing vendor, a food vendor, and a jewelry vendor. But what was in the building behind them? The building that was also my rendezvous spot and escape route?
“What the fuck, Owen?”
Noell’s angry voice pulls me from my thoughts. Owen’s CFO marches across the office and slams her hands on his desk.
Owen casually looks up as though this isn’t the first time this interaction has occurred.
“You’re sinking the company. You lost yetanotherclient.”
“I’m weeding out the bad ones, Noell. Not that it’s any of your business.”
