“Something on your mind, Sebastian?” I whispered, getting sick of the cryptic looks he’d been shooting my way when he thought I wasn’t looking. In a fully mirrored elevator, though, there was no hiding the direction of his gaze.
Beck’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing in reply. Dylan’s soft snicker sent my suspicious look his way, and he just gave me an unapologetic lopsided grin. “Beck’s just pissed off that I was already tagging along and he can’t do all the dirty, depraved things he wants to do to you in that outfit.” Dylan smirked in the direction of his friend, who glared death back at him but didn’t deny the truth of it. “Beck’s not good at dealing with the fact that he’s stuck with that hard on until we get the info we came for and get home.”
My brows shot up and my gaze went straight to Beck’s crotch. Well, I mean, that was like waving a red flag at a bull, wasn’t it? He made a frustrated sound in his throat and angled his body away while he rearranged his pants to—I assume—hide the boner in question. What kind of addicted bitch did it make me that I wanted him to just whip it out and let me deal with it right then and there? Dylan could watch for all I cared. Hell, that could be kinda—
“Butterfly,” Beck snapped, a throaty growl underscoring my name. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, your dress isn’t making it out of this elevator in one piece.”
My cheeks flamed, and I very deliberately dragged my gaze away from Beck and peered at the carpet. Damn that was nice carpet.
Seconds later, the doors slid open on the top floor, and Dylan snickered a laugh. “Shit, I was really hoping you’d push that a bit further, Riles.”
The startled look I gave him as I stepped out into the corridor was nothing on the warning glare Beck shot his friend. None of us had forgotten that kiss at the gala it seemed.
“Come on,” Beck growled. “We need to get this done before any of the board catch wind that we’re here.”
He led the way down the hall, and into an office the size of a studio apartment with floor to ceiling windows offering breathtaking views over the city. It was way excessive for one person’s office.
“This is your dad’s office?” I wrinkled my nose at Beck as he powered up the integrated computer at the massive desk. “Kinda compensating for something, huh?”
Beck flashed me a quick smile. “Actually this is Richard’s office. Soon to be yours.”
“Oh.” I looked around again. “Well, it’s, uh, lovely.”
Beck shook his head with a grin, and Dylan covered a laugh with a cough. Asshole.
“Here.” Beck indicated for me to sit in Richard’s desk chair. “Put the access code in, and then I’ll find the files.”
I did as he asked, sitting down then very deliberately withdrawing the slip of note paper from my white lace bra. It was just visible over the top of my dress shirt.
“What?” I asked, acting innocent when Beck let out a frustrated groan and Dylan scrubbed a hand over his face. “This outfit doesn’t come with pockets, okay?”
Funnily enough, it actually did have pockets in the jacket. But I was enjoying the sexual power play even before seeing how Beck would react to my clothing choices.
Peeking at the note, I quickly typed the code into the computer then watched with satisfaction as the screen changed to display a desktop with just a few icons on it. It took me another moment to recognize the image Richard had used as wallpaper, but when I did, my heartbeat stuttered.
“Oscar,” I whispered, staring at the image of my half-brother. I’d seen a handful of photos of him around the Deboise manor, but this one was totally different. He was relaxed, his arm thrown around Richard’s neck as he laughed toward the camera. Richard in the photo had his face turned away from the photographer, looking down at his son with total love in his face. “Richard really loved him, huh?”
I glanced up at Beck and Dylan who’d come around the desk to see what I was looking at, and they both seemed grim. Sad, even.
“We used to joke that Oscar won the lottery with Richard.” Dylan’s voice was quiet and nostalgic. “All the bullshit we went through growing up, all the training, the punishments, the mental torture... Oscar never suffered as bad as the rest of us. Richard shielded him as much as he could.” His words cracked with emotion as he remembered my deceased brother. “His death broke Richard. So much more than he’s showing.”
An uneasy feeling twisted in my gut at his words, and I fought the urge to bite my lip. I wore bright red lipstick and the last thing I wanted was to pop out of Delta with smeared makeup.
“Do your thing,” I said to the guys, rising from the chair and leaving them to find the files we needed. Computers were far from my forte, and the uncomfortable feeling under my skin was making me jumpy.
I hated that I was questioning my friends, but Dylan’s comment sparked a question. If Oscar was spared the awful upbringing that the other heirs were subjected to ... did any of them hold a grudge? Would they have had motive to hurt him?
Horrified at my own train of thought, I shook my head to clear it. That was just crazy; I’d seen their emotions at the cemetery. Surely none of them were that good at acting. All the murder and intrigue of late was making me more paranoid than I really cared to admit. How the guys all managed to hold their sanity after spending their entire lives in this world ... it blew my mind.
“All done,” Beck said softly, brushing a hand over my lower back as I startled.
“That was quick,” I observed, “did you get it?”
Dylan flashed me a little USB stick in his palm before pocketing it and a chill ran down my spine, which I quickly ignored. Stupid Richard and his suspicions now had me seeing monsters in every shadow. Just because Dylan had the flash drive didn’t mean he was doing anything bad with it. Same as the one from the gala.
“You okay?” Dylan asked, giving me a quizzical frown.
I shook off Richard’s doubts about Dylan’s loyalty and gave him a tight smile. “Of course. Just thought it would have taken longer.”
