Although, the thought of the sexy, funny man that just fucked me into oblivion being a trafficker makes me want to throw up.
Because Ilikehim. Sure, he’s a mess. He’s scary, and I get the distinct feeling that he’s into some shadier shit than a fighting club, but he’s treated me like a queen while also making me a little slutty.
A slutty queen.
It’ssomy jam.
“Don’t be an asshole pervert,” I whisper as I fish his phone out of his pants and try to unlock it. Of course it’s locked.
I hold it up to his face, but no luck.
I try a series of numbers, but let’s be real, there are likelythousandsof combinations of possible numbers, and I’ll never hack into it. Not that I really thought Icould, but maybe he’s the kind of guy who doesn’t have his phone locked.
Fuck.
Abandoning the phone, I leave the bedroom and search through the penthouse. It really is beautiful. Boldly masculine, with clean lines, and while it might not be my own personal style, I can respect the fuck out of it.
No. Stop it. Find the evidence to get Rose.
The kitchen is huge, and I can’t resist opening the fridge, finding it well stocked.
My stomach growls, so I grab a cheese stick from a drawer and munch as I go back to prowling the space. I have no idea how long he’ll be out, so I need to move quick.
Finally, I find an office.
“Jackpot.”
I rush over to the computer and wake it up, but when it asks for a password, I pause. What the hell kind of password would he use? I don’t know anything about him, other than he owns a fight club and fucks like a goddamn god. His club clearly does very well for itself, given where he lives.
So I type that in.
Fightclub
Fight club
Fight Club
“That’s not it.” I tap my finger against my lips, thinking.
Kick Ass
A$$Kicker
BigDickEnergy
I snort at that one and then sit in the chair, blowing out a raspberry as I spin in a circle. This is as hopeless as the phone.
“The conclusion I’ve come to is, I would make a shitty spy.” I open drawers and rifle through papers, but there’s really nothing here. “Trust me to find the guy who’s fully digital.”
Or, if he’s high up in the flesh trade, he probably has people who handle stuff for him.
I comb through the rest of the place, but there’s nothing here that would give me any indication that he knows my sister.
There is, however, a lot of art. Expensive shit. And none of that interests me.
I’m not here to rob him, I just want information.
But I also don’t want toaskhim and then have him off me because I’m asking the wrong questions.
