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I picked up my tumbler again, rolling the Scotch between my fingers. If she was looking at going south to Maryland she was thinking of making her way to D.C. She was debating going closer to home.

But I wanted her here with me. I contained that thought and took another sip of my drink before I answered. “Let her.” I paused before adding, “For now.”

Declan said nothing further because he didn’t need to. We had worked together long enough that he could read between the lines of my instructions as well as he understood the instructions themselves. I ended the call and set the phone face-down on my desk.

My Scotch was nearly gone. I considered refilling my glass, but quickly decided against it. I needed clarity tonight about this, not comfort from liquid in a glass. I drained the last of it, set the empty tumbler down, and turned my attention back to my monitor.

My team believed I was running a manhunt, which was the word Declan had used in a briefing he gave me two days ago. I hadn’t bothered to correct him. I wanted him and the rest of his team to believe that. Let them think the search protocols, the expanded surveillance, and the additional operatives I’d asked him to deploy across three states were all about bringing a fugitive to her knees.

The truth was much more complicated than that. I wasn’t allowing Sutton to stay on the run like this for shits and giggles. I was molding her the best way I knew how.

Every calculated move I made with her was deliberate. Pressure applied in precisely the right places, at precisely the right times, was done on purpose because it revealed the true theme. It stripped away the performance they’d constructed for the benefit of the world and left behind something rawer and more honest. I’d done it in various ways with board members, with business rivals, with politicians, and with men and women twice Sutton’s age who thought they understood the game far better than they did.

None of them had ever interested me the way she did.

I pulled up the surveillance feed from D.C. My team had eyes on four locations: her condo building, the parking garage where she kept her car, the offices of Prescott Vantage on the fourteenth floor of a building that now, technically, belonged to me, and Cassie, her best friend’s place. The feeds cycled automatically every ninety seconds. Her condo had remained dark; the car hadn’t moved; and Prescott Vantage was operating as normally as possible after I made it a point to instruct the staff to behave as though nothing had changed. I hadn’t bothered with her father’s home because I knew their relationship was strained at best. Could she potentially go to him if she felt desperate enough? Sure, but I didn’t plan on letting this get that far.

The feed that showed Cassie’s place carried the most interest for me at the present moment. Cassie herself represented the weakest point in Sutton’s circle because of their longstanding friendship. It was the kind of relationship that I wouldn’t be surprised if it made otherwise rational people do irrational things and it was something I wanted to keep an eye on.

From what I gathered, Cassie was completely loyal to Sutton, where I’m sure she wouldn’t require explanation or justification to help if Sutton made the call. She would open her door without asking questions, and she would do it at two in the morning in the rain if it was coming from Sutton. That made her useful to me in ways that Sutton hadn’t yet considered.

I hadn’t moved on Cassie yet. I was patient enough to wait and see if Sutton continued to avoid contacting her, or if the isolation would eventually crack something open in her and send her reaching for the one person she trusted most. It was a variable I was content to leave alone for now because it was another card I was waiting and ready to play.

I’d also managed to keep Cassie and her father at bay in other ways. Cassie had texted Sutton three times in the past seventy-two hours. I answered each one from Sutton’s accounts using access my security team had buried in them long before the acquisition became public.

Sutton

Needed some space after the acquisition. Headed out of town for a few days to recoup and work remote, but won’t have service. Will call when I return.

Short messages were easier to believe. I also made sure to not make her tone sound frantic to raise any suspicions that something was amiss.

Her father was much easier to fool. First, I’d known since the beginning that their relationship wasn’t great. It was what made not raising any suspicions with him much simpler. And if I was being honest, it was what also made keeping the secret of this acquisition from Sutton easier from his side. He wasn’t as privy to her life now, but I also didn’t want him potentially following up as she’d transitioned into a new role and was now in charge.

Two days ago, I had a voice message sent from her number using audio built from conference calls, recorded presentations, and every public panel she had ever given.

“Dad, I’ll be in and out of the office handling things with this transition. If I need anything from you, I’ll reach out. Bye.”

It had worked so well that it was quite sad. It was pretty obvious he hadn’t bothered to get to know her as an adult to know she’d more than likely never do this unless she was sick. However, I had no issue exploiting every possible angle I could to dominate the game I was going to win.

All of her emails from clients were being handled by my team under the guise that she was handling a private matter and would take things back over when she returned. So far, this approach had been working fantastically, not that I expected it wouldn’t have.

I closed the surveillance feed and leaned back in my chair. With a deep sigh, I began to rub the bandage on my temple. The wound had been stitched by a private doctor who asked no questions, just how I preferred it.

It more than likely wouldn’t be the last time. And that was something I was looking forward to.

I reached into the top drawer of my desk without looking and my hand found what I was looking for on pure memory alone. That told me something about how often I’d been doing this lately. I pulled the photograph from the drawer and placed it on my desk. The edges were worn, but my attention was on Sutton’s face staring back at me. It was from when I first started tracking her, before she even knew I existed.

The photograph was taken on a Tuesday in October, three years ago. I knew the exact time it was taken because I’d had Declan pull the metadata from the original digital file before I’d had it printed. She’d been standing outside the Georgetown University Library at 11.47 in the morning. Her outfit consisted of a cream suit with a black blouse; she had her hair in her trademark bun and the sun shining down on it caused it to look lighter than it was in person.

Even when I barely knew anything about her, I knew I would go to the ends of the earth to find out everything there was to know. What made her happy, what made her mad, what made her cum all over my fingers. The thought settled into my chest in a similar manner that the Scotch had, smooth and warm. It almost made me want to call this whole thing off if it meant getting her closer to me so that I could fuck her, slowly and properly.

Almost.

However, patience was a virtue and that time would come soon enough.

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SUTTON