Ignoring the feel of my stomach twisting, I twist the handle of the door and slowly push it open, revealing a dark room filled with luxuriouswooden furniture.
Stepping into the office and closing the door behind me, I splay my uninjured hand against the wall, searching for the light switch, and when my fingers graze across it, I press it down, bathing the room in light.
Large bookcases sit on either side of the room, filled with folders, books, and picture frames. His desk is positioned in front of the glass windows that run along the back of the room, and a small table and leather couch stand between myself and the desk.
The room is bland, lacking character, but I'm not surprised. That seems to be Dom's style.
Not wanting to chance being caught snooping around—in case he does decide to come back—I move across the room, around his desk until my back is facing the floor-to-ceiling windows, and I look at the barren surface of his desk.
The only thing on top of it is his laptop and a single brown folder with a stack of papers inside it.
Casting my eyes across the bookcases on either side of me, I decide to look through those first, doubting I'd be able to hack into his computer. I don't bother to look through the folder boldly placed on his desk—if he has anything in here of importance, surely he wouldn't leave it lying around for anyone to get their hands on.
Smoothing my hands along the spine of the folders, I read over all of the titles, bypassing the ones dated from years before. I ignore everything to do with the Rossi's on it, knowing none of it is likely to be helpful to Lenny.
After searching for almost twenty minutes, I move on to the other one, but yet again, come up empty.
Huffing, I pull out his desk chair and sit in it, sinking into the plush leather seat.
Opening the drawers, I'm met with notepads, sticky notes, and pens in one, so I move on to the next one, which is deeper.
When I pull it open, a crystal decanter comes into view with a few tumbler glasses to match. I let out a humourless laugh as I close the drawer again.
As I go to move onto the other set of drawers, my hand nudges the mouse on his desk, and his computer screen comes to life.
Glancing up at the screen, I see it's unlocked, and my brows raise in surprise.
You've got to be shitting me.
There's no way he doesn't have a passcode on this thing.
This man either has no sense of security, or he's so confident in himself and his people he doesn't think he has to worry about anyone snooping around and gaining access to all of the information he holds.
Little does he know, he all but invited a traitor into his own home.
The thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth, and I hesitate as I reach for the mouse.
I may be pissed with him, but do I really want to potentially give my brother something that could completely ruin this man and his family?
Grimacing at the thought, I remove my hand from the mouse and stand from his desk, looking out the window behind me, my eyes scanning over the surrounding buildings.
I shouldn't feel bad.
The whole time I've been married to him, he's kept me locked away, tried to control everything I've done, and even gone as far as tohandcuff me to the bed. Not once, but twice. I don't owe this man any loyalty.
He made me feel rotten, and he deserves to feel the same way.
It may be petty, but when my feelings are hurt, I enjoy being a bitch, and I think it's time he learns that.
Turning back to the desk, my eyes snag on the brown folder, and I pick it up, flicking it open.
If he's not got a password for his computer, then maybe he is dumb enough to leave important documents in the middle of his desk.
Flicking through the papers, I see his handwriting scrawled across some of the documents from where he's taken notes while reading through.
I flick past the ones to do with clubs, knowing Lenny will probably tell me they're useless, and I keep scanning each document until I come to the last few.
Emails have been picked apart, words within paragraphs highlighted and underlined, as if Dom was picking apart a code, piecing together a message.
