Page 2 of Prey

"Yes, sir. Thoroughly." I don't mention the extra digging I did on William’s wife and his DUIs. That would be too much. "I have notes ready whenever you want to go over them."

"Seven o'clock. My office." He turns and walks away.

The morning passes in a blur. Emails, calls, and by noon, I've finished three days of work. By one, next week. Boredom makes me watch.

His door is still closed. But I can hear his voice through the wall. Low and measured. He's on a conference call. Something about acquisitions, and board approvals. Words I've heard him say a hundred times.

But then he laughs. It's warm and sudden, nothing like the polite chuckle he uses in meetings. Someone on that phone made him laugh. Someone who isn't me.

The hum inside me turns sharp, as he opens his office door and leaves.

I pull out my phone, opening the tracking app I installed on his work device three months ago. His location pings: on the 23rd floor, conference room B.

Is he alone or is he with the person that made him laugh.

I stand up and walk to the break room first, plausible deniability, a man getting coffee he won’t drink. Then I walk toward the conference room, taking the long way, the route that lets me pass the glass wall without seeming to look.

Cain and the woman from his desk photo. Her dress looks like it’s worth more than my rent. She laughs; he smiles. I keep walking. My face doesn't change. My grip on the coffee cup doesn't tighten. Back at my desk, I open the William file again. I don't need to. I just need something to look at while I think.

Who is she?

I check his calendar. 1:00 PM – Lunch – R. Sophie. It wasn’t there yesterday; he must have added it this morning. R. Sophie. Rose Sophie. Head of Acquisitions and somehow, she’s always single.

I read the email she sent him last week, something about catching up and dinner sometime. He hadn’t replied. So why the fuck is he talking to her in the conference room? door closed, glass walls, the whole office watching. Why the fuck did he schedule lunch with her and never tell me?

He's not hiding her.

Chapter 3

Grey

At 6:30, the office starts to empty. Goodbyes echo down the hallway. I smile at everyone who passes, the picture of harmless dedication. By ten to seven I'm the only one left except him. I smooth my shirt, check my reflection, hair neat, hands steady and knock twice softly.

"Come in."

His voice is different at night, lower, rougher, like it's finally allowed to rest.

He's at his desk. Jacket off. Sleeves rolled to his elbows. His forearms are tan and corded with muscle, oh how much I want to put my mouth on the inside of his wrist where the veins show and just bite.

"Close the door," he says.

The sound of the latch clicking into place is louder than it should be. Or maybe my ears are just sharper now that we're alone.

"Sit." He gestures to the chair across from his desk.

The leather is cold or maybe I'm running hot, I can't tell anymore. He doesn't speak for a long moment. Just looks at me. Gray eyes moving over my face like he's reading something written there. I meet his gaze and don't look away. I let him look.

"William," he says finally. "What do you think?"

I blink because for a second, I forgot about the file. Forgot about William, about work, about everything except the way his throat moves when he swallows.

"He's lying," I say.

Cain's eyebrows lift. "About what?"

"About the DUI. He said it was a mistake. A one-time thing, but he's been pulled over three times in the past two years. Twice for speeding, once for reckless driving. He has a pattern of poor judgment, and he's hiding it because he knows we'll find it."

I didn't mean to say all of that. Those were the things I found when I was digging deeper than I should have.