Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“No,” I say, clenching my jaw.
“Good.” He gets out of my space. “Now go clean up your face. You’re a mess, just like your trashy mother.” He opens his door and pauses. “Oh, and if you thought deleting a few lines of code was going to prevent me from getting it to work, you really underestimated my intelligence.”
With that mocking declaration, he shuts the door in my face.
I’m shivering with fury and indignation, aimed not only at him but mostly at myself, because Elliot is right. I knew what he was going to do would be bad. Leon isn’t always an asshole. Not to me. Sometimes, he’s kind. Especially to me. But he knows. His behavior was too odd. My only consolation is that he doesn’t have proof. I can only hope he’ll never find proof. Even so, I have a feeling I’m about to find out what it’s like to be on Leon’s bad side.
CHAPTER 27
Leon
Cutting off all emotions, I drive straight to the office. If I don’t shut down my feelings, I may not go through with this. I may not want to face the truth, that the first and only woman I fell for stabbed me in the back, but turning a blind eye makes you weak, and I can’t be weak in this game. Weakness can cost me my life. Weakness can give my enemies the opportunity to destroy me. Weakness won’t allow me to protect my woman, even if said woman is a traitor.
And I know.
I know because Violet Starley carries her heart on her sleeve. I saw it in her face when Elliot presented my work and claimed it as his own.
Still, I take nothing for granted, not until I’m sat in front of my desk and my fingers are flying over the keyboard, punching in my password.
The night guard puts his head around the door. “Everything okay in here, Mr. Hart?”
Since the night I told him I’m going to marry Violet, he treats me with considerably more respect.
“Yes,” I say, not glancing up from my screen. “I have a deadline for tomorrow. It won’t take long.”
“Take your time.” He adds with a chuckle, “I’m here all night.”
I wait until he disappears before I call up the camera feed. Unbeknown to Gus, I uploaded extra security measures on my desktop computer. They’re well hidden, running undetectably in the background. The spyware I activate is a program I developed myself. It triggers the webcam to record the user whenever the screen is woken up.
I type in a command, bringing up the login dates and times. It’s easy to spot what I’m looking for. It’s a time and date when I haven’t been in the office.
I hesitate with my finger hovering above the enter button. If I press that command, there’s no turning back. There’ll be no unseeing it, no venturing off this road. It’ll slay me, but I don’t have a choice. I can’t afford the luxury of turning a blind eye. I can’t afford not knowing who my enemies are, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting Elliot pocket my work and move into the corner office when I earned that space.
It’s ironic if you consider that I made a living from stealing. I stole many valuables in my life, including money from casinos, paintings from museums, and gemstones from jewelry stores. For the first time in my life, I’m on the receiving end, having had something stolen from me. I’m in no position to judge, but it doesn’t make the pill less bitter to swallow. It doesn’t diminish the disappointment or eradicate my futile hope.
Biting the bullet, I take a deep breath and click enter.
My stomach drops.
Any hope I harbored is wiped away. Right in front of my eyes, Violet hacks into my computer and steals my life’s greatest work. She does it cleverly and quickly. Brilliantly, really. As a thief, I can’t help but admire her skill.
How?
When I play the last week over in my mind, the pieces fall into place. She stole my password when she tripped over the power cord, or rather, pretended to trip. I already know for whom she did it, and the knowledge makes me clench the mouse hard in my grip. She stole my work for her lowlife, useless, no-good stepbrother, the one whose face I almost bashed in because he kicked over her bucket of water. The one I punched for insulting her at the dinner table. It’s the why that eludes me, but not for long, because suddenly, it’s crystal clear.
She thought she wouldn’t have to marry me if Gus didn’t make me a partner. She believed if Elliot took that position, she’d escape the package deal. Coldness travels through my body, cutting like a blade through my organs. Just as well I never had much of a heart to begin with. Still hurts like a bitch though.