Page 36
My desk phone rings before either of us can say anything else. Kenji’s name flashes across the caller ID, and I put him on speaker.
“Sir, I’m in the lobby. Mr. Campbell is here demanding to see you.”
Alessia’s eyebrows rise, and I don’t miss the amusement that immediately replaces her serious expression. Nash came here on his own after running from me two nights in a row, which means whatever brought him through the front doors of Murphy Enterprises pissed him off enough to outweigh his determination to avoid me.
“Bring him up.”
The call disconnects, and Alessia gets out of her chair but moves toward the sitting area instead of the door.
“I’m staying. I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
“Of course you wouldn’t.”
She settles onto the couch while I turn my attention toward the door. A few minutes later, it swings open and Nash storms inside. His cheeks are flushed, his breathing heavier than normal, and his blue eyes are fixed entirely on me. He’s furious, and unfortunately for both of us, I still find him sexy as hell when he’s angry.
“Look, I already told your scary-ass spawn last night that I had nothing to do with those pictures. You can believe me or not.”
“I believe you.”
That stops him. His eyes narrow as if he came prepared for an argument and doesn’t appreciate me taking it away from him.
“Great. Then would you mind explaining why you would break into my apartment and wallpaper my kitchen with those damn photographs?”
For several seconds, I can only stare at him as what he said settles in. “You think I broke into your apartment?”
“Don’t give me that.” Nash crosses his arms over his chest. “Your son made it perfectly clear last night how pissed he was about those pictures. If you didn’t do it, maybe he did.”
“No one in my family broke into your apartment.”
The look he gives me makes it clear my word isn’t enough, and considering I admitted to having him followed less than forty-eight hours ago, I can understand why. Getting offended because he suspects me would be fucking hypocritical.
“Tell me why you think I broke in.”
His jaw tightens. “Photographs. Dozens of them all over my kitchen. Me outside Velvet Collar. You and me together. Obsidian. The limo. Whoever did it came into my apartment while I was asleep and fucking wallpapered the place with them.”
Any irritation I had over the accusation disappears. Someone entered Nash’s home while he was sleeping, got close enough to move through his apartment without waking him, and left behind proof that they’d been watching him for days.
“Were the photographs the only thing they left?”
“Yes. Nothing was stolen or moved that I could tell. They wanted me to see the pictures.”
Alessia has gone completely quiet behind him. Whoever did this followed Nash to multiple locations, got inside his apartment while he slept, and left without taking anything. The photographs weren’t evidence of a burglary. They were the reason for it, and the thought of someone standing inside Nash’s home while he slept sends something cold through me.
“What if this has nothing to do with me?”
Nash’s brows pull together. “You’re in half the fucking pictures.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m the one they’re interested in.” I hold his gaze as the pieces begin lining up differently. “Every one of those photographs was taken while someone was following you. We need to check whether any of them were taken before I got there.”
Suspicion gives way to uncertainty, but before he can respond, another possibility occurs to me. “Did Justin Mills ever realize you were following him?”
His attention snaps to me. “I told you to stop following me.”
“I wasn’t the one who saw you with Justin. Declan did, and you were watching him inside a club my family owns.”
“Nash.” Alessia gets to her feet and comes around the desk, finally drawing his attention away from me. “I’m Alessia Murphy.”
He looks at her properly for the first time before accepting the hand she offers. “Nash Campbell.”
