Page 165 of Deceived Wrath

I pull out my phone, and my stomach bottoms out.

Lorcan.

Of course it’s him.

I glance up the stairs, listening for any sign Cormac might be coming back down before quickly answering.

“I—I can’t talk right now,” I whisper.

“It never seems to be a good time with you lately. And I would tread very carefully with the excuses, Fiona. You work for me, not the other way around.”

Oh. Believe me, I know.

“You can’t call me this late?—”

“I can call you whenever the fuck I want. And you answer whenever the fuck I tell you to.”

I flinch at his words, but I can’t risk Cormac catching me on the phone with Lorcan, tonight of all nights. So, the sooner I find out what he wants, the better.

“What do you need?”

“I need you to get the gray laptop Cormac brought home tonight and delete a file from it. Right now.”

I frown as I try to recall seeing Cormac with a laptop. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t carrying one when he got home fromSullivan Investments… At least, not a gray one.

“A…a laptop?”

“Yes, Fiona. A laptop.” Lorcan’s words drip with irritation. “I need you to sign in and wipe a file from the hard drive. It’s a simple task. I figure even you can manage it.”

That’s it? He wants me to delete a file?

That seems like pretty inconsequential work, unless…

I suck a breath as the pieces click together like a puzzle.

The only reason Lorcan would need a file deleted is if it incriminates him. Add to the fact that Cormac came homecovered in blood makes me think that Lorcan knows Cormac has access to something that can destroy him.

Could this be it? Could this be the leverage I’ve been desperately hoping for?

I don’t know if Cormac will ever forgive me for what I’ve done, but if I can help him take Lorcan down, if I can help him protect Scout, maybe he’ll at least understand why I did what I did.

The only problem is, Cormac didn’t come home with a laptop.

“Fiona. Are you listening to me?”

Lorcan’s voice snaps like a whip through my spiraling thoughts.

I jolt as I quickly glance at the stairs again. There’s still no sign of Cormac, but I can feel the invisible clock ticking with every second I spend with Lorcan on the phone.

“Y-yes, sorry.”

“I told you what to do. Now go find the laptop.”

“Cormac didn’t bring one home.”

The line is silent for a beat before Lorcan laughs, a sound so cold and humorless it sends a shiver down my spine. “Don’t lie for him.”

“I’m not?—”