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  She gasps, her eyes widen in surprise. “H-How did you know about that?” she asks in a demanding tone.

  “I’ve been searching for answers, Mom. For seven years, I’ve asked. I’ve prayed to God to just tell me. I haven’t been able to move on with my life. Every day my scar reminds me, making sure I can’t forget that day. It’s consumes me.”

  She swallows hard, shocked at my confession. “Who have you been talking to? Do you have any idea what you’re doing? You could be putting us in danger, Cecilia!”

  “By who, Mom? Why won’t you tell me?”

  “Who are you talking to?” she asks again.

  “I have a…a friend who helped me. I found the note about Samuel Anderson under your mattress.”

  She shakes her head in disbelief. “You should’ve never done that. You have no idea what you’re doing! You’re going to get us killed!”

  “Then tell me, Mom!” I shout, my cheeks burning with anger and resentment.

  “We’re not having this conversation. You’re…not ready,” she proclaims. “It’s to protect you.”

  * * *

  My mom runs out on me with absolutely no answers—except that I know for sure that the note does have something to do with my father. Which means I need to find out who Samuel Anderson is myself, since she clearly won’t give me any answers.

  My mom not telling me could be more dangerous than disclosing. I deserve to know the truth, no matter what. And I won’t stop until I have it.

  Casey comes into my room shortly after. She sits on the end of my bed silently. I pretend to read a magazine, but I’m watching her intently.

  “We haven’t talked in a long time,” she begins. “Like really talked.” I hear the pained regret in her voice.

  I match her tone. “I know.”

  “How’s Simon?”

  “Good. Still longing after Cora but neither will admit it.” I laugh. “And you? What’s up in Casey-land?”

  She narrows her eyebrows at me. “Casey-land? Oh, it’s ultra-hopping, let me tell you. My semester is packed with back to back classes plus working part-time on campus. It blows.”

  I wrinkle my nose at her. “Something to look forward to.”

  “Yeah, right.” She laughs. “Nah, it ain’t so bad. College is awesome. You’re gonna love it.”

  I shrug, not really agreeing with her.

  “Can I ask you something?” I say softly.

  “Yeah, sure.” Her face flashes a look of concern.

  I instinctively rub my fingers over my shoulder, feeling the scar with my fingertips. “How much do you remember about that day? I know you’ve told me before, but…do you remember anything else? Like any conversations between Mom and Dad before?”

  Her lips form a straight line. I know it’s a hard topic for the both of us, but I needed to ask her.

  She looks down and her voice is pained. “I remember them fighting a lot. Mom crying. Dad begging her to forgive him. I remember he made her a lot of promises.” She finally looks up at me with sad eyes. “I guess he never kept them.”

  I nod in return. I can feel my throat tightening up, becoming scratchy at just the thought.

  “He loved us, Cecilia.” I look into her eyes as she continues. “Dad loved you so much. Always gloating about how smart and talented you were.” I smile weakly. “If he only knew what a hot mess, troublemaker you turned into.” She laughs playfully.

  “I prefer badass, thank you very much.”

  She smiles. “Either way, he’d be proud of you.”

  I reach across the bed and grab her hand. “Thanks, Casey. He’d be proud of you, too.”

  It was the first time in years Casey and I had talked about Dad. It was always a sore subject in our house, Mom never wanting to discuss it or allowing us to ask questions.

  Chapter Seven

  Cecilia

  AFTER THE FIGHT with my mom, talking to Casey really calmed me down. I still have a thousand questions, but at least Casey was willing to talk to me about Dad.

  I shower and get ready for bed, but first check my email and see one from Bentley. My heart begins racing as I click on it.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Employee Conduct

  Miss West,

  Don’t think I didn’t notice that you were over a half hour late for work today. Surely, you do not intend to make this a habit, as I'll have no choice but to fire you.

  Mr. Leighton

  P.S. Clearly the other night was too much for your body to handle, so next time we'll be skipping the fucking foreplay—there's not much use for that anyway.

  I respond immediately.

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Re: Employee Conduct

  Mr. Leighton,

  I am fully aware that I was half an hour late to work today. I am also aware that HR received notice of my aforementioned tardiness last week as I knew I had a morning appointment scheduled for today a while ago.

  Miss West

  P.S. The other night was definitely not "too much" for me to handle. I handled it quite well, from what I remember—even slammed up against your wall. However, your assumption that there will be a "next time" between the two of us—after today—is rather laughable.

  I lie about my morning appointment, but he doesn’t have to know that. And after today, I’m not so sure things between us should escalate—but who am I really kidding?

  To: [email protected]

  From: [email protected]

  Subject: Re: Re: Employee Conduct

  Miss West,

  It's good to know that you're capable of contacting HR about your tardiness in advance, but last time I checked being late still means "being late."

  Make sure it doesn’t happen again.

  Mr. Leighton

  P.S. I went rather easy on you today. Next time, I won't give in to your loud ass moans. And yes, I did say "next time," because it's not an assumption. It's a fact.

  * * *

  I spend the next half of the week in a haze. As desperately as I want answers for my dad, I’m coming up empty. If I’m going to find anything, it’ll be in the company database. But that’s not going to be an easy task.

  Unknown: Be ready by 7PM Friday.

  Ceci: And this is?

  Unknown: 2100 E. Grand Ave.

  Ceci: Who is this??

  Unknown: Don’t be late. Wear those stockings.

  I didn’t know whether to be giddy or pissed off. I know I’ve given him reasons to doubt me, but now he’s just acting like a cold and distant asshole.

  Ceci: I have plans.

  Bentley: Cancel them.

  Ceci: Fuck you.

  Bentley: That’s what I’m hoping for.

  I look up the address and see it’s for the Hilton Grand Hotel of Omaha.

  Ceci: I’m not staying at a hotel with you.

  Bentley: No one said anything about staying over.

  Ceci: You are impossible. At least tell me what I’m supposed to wear.

  Bentley: Preferably nothing. But since this is a public affair, I suggest something elegant.

  Ceci: I don’t appreciate being told what to do with no clue as to what’s going on.

  Bentley: I don’t appreciate being deceived, Ceci.

  God. This man is infuriating. Clearly, he’s not going to give that up. He’s the one that fucked me up against a wall with another person in the room! Yet, I’m the one in trouble for ‘lying’ about who wrote my recommendation letter.

  Sigh. I know what I have to do now.

  I’ll have to put the digging around on hold until I gain his trust back.

  Ceci: Fine. 7PM.

  Bentley: Friday. Be on time.

  I lean back on my bed, sighing. How was I going to get out of this without blowing my cover?

  I’m completely in over my head with Bentley. As much as I want to fight the attraction, it’s obvious I can�
��t.

  And neither can he. Knowing Bentley craves me as much as I crave him, I’ll use that angle into getting what I need.

  I’m wearing one of Casey’s favorite dresses—a dark purple sequin cocktail dress that lays mid-thigh with dark black stockings—just as he requested. She’ll kill me if she finds out it’s missing, but I ignore the thought as I refocus on my main mission here. If he’s going to use my mistakes against me, I’m going to use his cock against him. It only seems fair.

  I arrive at 6:54 PM and hand my keys over to the valet. I have no idea what I’m doing here, but I’m ready for anything he throws my way. If he wants to fuck the truth out of me, I’ll play.

  “Good evening, Miss West.” I hear Bentley’s deep voice behind me before I even enter the hotel. I turn around and gasp as I take in his crisp black tuxedo. His hair is gelled back and he’s trimmed his face.

  I can practically feel my panties combusting into flames, melting away at just the looks of him.

  Focus, panties. Stay intact.

  His hands are shoved in his pockets as he eyes my outfit. He gives me a nod of approval before closing the gap between us.

  “You look exquisite.” He places a hand on my lower back as he leans in and kisses me softly on the cheek.

  “Thank you,” I say softly. “You look stunning.”

  “All part of the job,” he says matter-of-factly. “Let’s go in.”

  I swallow as he wraps his hand around my waist and guides me inside. I still have no clue what we’re doing here, but I go with it for now.

  I’ve never been inside the Hilton before, but it’s everything I imagined a five-star hotel to look like—bright lights, exceptional details on the walls, modern furniture too immaculate it doesn’t even look used. And that’s just the lobby.

  He guides me to the elevator and hits the twenty-fourth floor button. “You mind telling me what we’re doing?”

  He presses me into the wall, his hips firm against mine as he nuzzles his nose into my neck. I inhale his clean scent mixed with his cologne. My body molds into him but before I can react, he responds, “Just go with it.” He kisses my cheek tenderly before the elevator dings and opens wide.

  He guides me out into a large ballroom. The lights are dim, but I can still see every intimate detail.

  “Wow…” I gasp, taking it all in. “This is beautiful.”

  “Come.” He grabs my hand and leads me further inside.

  The ballroom is surrounded with people—mostly middle-aged people, but I spot a few younger couples.

  “Good evening, Mr. Leighton,” I hear several men say to him as we pass by. He stops for a second to nod and greet them back, but never long enough for introductions.

  “Would you like a drink?” he leans in and asks.

  “Sure,” I reply quickly.

  He grabs a server’s attention with champagne glasses on a tray and grabs two of them.

  He hands me one and says, “No getting tipsy on me now.”

  I grab it and smirk. “No promises.”

  I take a sip as I look around and try to figure out what kind of event we’re attending.

  “Bentley!” I hear a woman’s voice echo across the room. We both spin around to an older woman flailing her arms at us.

  Bentley leans in and presses his lips against my ear. “Play along.”

  “Darling, you made it!” She wraps her arms around him and he returns the gesture.

  “Of course, Mom.” He politely kisses her cheek, and I wonder how this man can have so many different sides. This one I actually like.

  “You look fantastic. Perfect.”

  “Thank you,” he replies embarrassed. “Can I introduce you to someone?”

  “Oh, yes!” Her eyes light up excitedly.

  I swallow hard as they both turn toward me. Bentley places a hand on my lower back and introduces me. “Mom, this is Emily. My date.”

  My eyes widen as my lips curve up into a surprised grin. Emily?

  She immediately takes my hand. “Emily, darling. A pleasure.”

  I smile wide. “Likewise, Mrs. Leighton.”

  “She’s stunning, Bentley. Just stunning,” she gushes as if I’m not standing right there.

  “I agree.” His lips curve into a small grin. I smirk back as I take note that he just lied to his own mother.

  “Your father is around here somewhere. Do you want me to go find him quick?”

  “Not necessary, Mom. I’ll run into him later.”

  She begins smoothing his tuxedo, brushing away invisible dirt off his chest and shoulders.

  “Stop being nervous. It’s going to be fine,” he says calmly, grabbing her wrists and pulling them down. “My speech is ready.”

  She breathes a sigh of relief and says a quick goodbye before turning on her heel to find her husband.

  I flash a knowing grin as Bentley turns toward me. “What?”

  “Just taking in what a hypocrite looks like.”

  He licks his lips and brushes a hand through his hair. “I’m not a hypocrite.”

  I step toward him and say softly, “You’ve been punishing me for lying to you. You just lied to your own mother…”

  He looks amused by my stern voice. He leans in close, looking around us closely to make sure no one can overhear us. “Would you rather I inform her that I’m fucking my intern instead?”

  “Then why even bring me?”

  “Because you look good on my arm,” he says with no shame. I jerk back, irritated by his response. “Because you want to learn. What better way to learn about a company than attending its recognition ceremony.”

  “Well, you could’ve told me.”

  “And where’s the fun in that?” He cocks his head and smirks at me. “Come on. We need to take our seats.”

  We run into more people before sitting down. I feel a dozen set of eyes on me the entire time. I try to not let the nerves get to me, but I have no idea what’s going on and that makes me even more anxious.

  Eventually, we’re all seated and all our eyes are facing the front where an older man is giving an introduction speech. I try to keep up with what he’s saying, but the paranoia of being here distracts me.

  I look around and notice Bentley’s mother sitting in the front with Mr. Leighton. She’s squeezing his arm tight with a wide smile on her face. She’s obviously very proud.

  “And now, to present the award we’re all here for tonight.” The gentleman on stage begins speaking.

  Bentley leans over and whispers, “That’s Mr. Lyle, Chairman of the Business Board.”

  “Leighton Enterprises—not only do they have the highest record of most solved cases in investigating and reporting, but also hold the highest in charitable contributors throughout the Midwest. They are being recognized for both tonight, but I must add—they are the strongest team of investigative reporters Nebraska has ever seen. And that’s why they are receiving the Golden Bridge Business and Innovation Award six years in a row!”

  The room echoes in applause as Mr. Lyle holds up the clear, scripted award. Bentley’s father takes the stage, shaking hands with him. Everyone stands up as Mr. Leighton takes the podium, myself included. I watch Bentley as his face beams with pride. His eyes are locked on his father as he sets the award down to showcase.

  It’s a different side of Bentley—watching him watch his father like that. His facial features soften as his eyes lock on his dad.

  After Mr. Leighton gives his speech, Bentley rises and takes the stage. My eyes widen as I take him in—business and sex appeal wrapped into one deadly combination.

  Watching him talk about how proud he is of his dad warms my heart. The way he praises his dad for a strong upbringing, being a powerhouse CEO, and intense work ethic makes me realize how proud Bentley really is of his father’s company. Blood, sweat, and tears go into running Leighton Enterprises—failure and accomplishments all a part of the journey to get where they are today. His speech is heartfelt, and I cannot believe I’m
even here tonight to witness it all.

  * * *

  “Stay with me tonight,” Bentley whispers as we approach the valet.

  “I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  I turn toward him and eye him cautiously. “If I’m late to my internship again, my boss is going to fire me,” I say matter-of-factly.

  He rubs the stubble on his jaw and smirks back at me. “Sounds like an asshole.”

  “He very much can be.”

  He closes the gap between us and softly kisses my lips. It’s not rushed or eager, it’s sensual and sweet. “I guess he has a lot of making up to do.”

  Chapter Eight

  Bentley

  “THANK YOU FOR coming with me tonight.”

  “I wasn’t left a choice,” she fires back. “But…I’m glad I did. It was definitely an experience.”

  She’s sitting casually on the couch, trying to sit properly, but she’s fighting a losing battle. Her dress is hiked up, and no matter what sitting position she’s in, that thing is not getting any lower.

  I sit across from her, twirling my drink around in one hand as I watch her intently. All the doubt flooding in my mind and the answers to the questions still not settling with me are both reasons why I shouldn’t be with her right now.

  But my body doesn’t agree. It aches for her. Craves to touch every inch of her. There’s just something about her, and I just can’t seem to get enough.

  “Are you hungry?” I finally ask. “Surely, that salad didn’t fill you up.”

  “Are you offering to cook for me?” Her eyebrows rise in anticipation.

  I stand up and hold my hand out for her to grab. She lets me pull her up and lead her into the kitchen.

  “I do cook, actually.” I smile back at her and she eyes me cautiously. “Well, I can cook pasta. So as long as you eat pasta…”

  She laughs. “Yes, I eat pasta.”