Page 161 of Damsel in Disguise

“Who the fuck is this?” he’s dangerously alert now.

There’s a subtle squeaking of the chair, indicating he’s sitting upright.

I chuckle. “That’s how you greet someone who’s been providing you data about Triarch Dominion for the last couple of weeks? How ungrateful of you.”

A scoffs answers me first. “What am I gonna do with those? Piss in my pants?”

Before I can say something, he adds. “Whatever, you can fuck yourself in the ass,” and hangs up.

I roll my eyes and try calling him again. Can’t lose him now.

On the fifth ring, he picks up. He could’ve blocked me—which means he’s still interested, just playing hard to get.

Though blocking this one burner number wouldn’t stop me from bugging him through a ton more.

“What now, you sick fuck?”

“Don’t put names on me yet, especially when I still haven’t disclosed what I truly intended to share with you, friend,” I lean back. “Your beloved sister, I mean.”

“What about her?” with that, every trace of annoyance vanishes.

Rain trails down the glass beyond the window of the presidential suite I booked at Velmourne Club. I couldn’t risk being at my place and having this conversation with Asher.

Although I’m using a burner phone, who knows what type of devices Triarch Dominion might have planted in unthinkable corners there through Delilah.

I even left my usual phone back at home and bought a secondary one, one that the Triarch Dominion is hopefully unaware of. It never hurts to be extra cautious, especially during times like this.

“Ariella’s accident wasn’t really an accident. It was orchestrated,” I provide.

Deafening silence falls on the other side of the line.

I’m almost tempted to check if he’s cut the line, calling it nonsense, but then he says in a much calmer voice.

“Who are you again?”

“Is my name more important than the information?”

“It is when you’re involving my family.”

A faint smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

“If a name makes you more comfortable, you may call me Aleron,” I say, and cross my legs.

I can practically hear him rearranging possibilities inside his head.

“What do you want, Aleron?”

The way he mocked my name says he didn’t buy it as my real name. Not that I expected him to.

“Nothing, really.”

“No one contacts me at three in the morning using a burner phone for nothing.”

“Perhaps,” I sigh, feigning empathy. “But if I wanted something from you, I wouldn’t have called to warn you.”

A scoff crackles through the speaker. “If you’re telling the truth, you know exactly which member of the Triarch Dominion was responsible.”

“I do.”