Chapter 17 – Ellie
He’d been busy with work, so I hadn’t seen him in over five days. He came back late at night and left very early the next morning. While part of me was grateful for the distance between us, the other part couldn’t help but think he was intentionally avoiding me.
Why?
Did I repulse him now?
He’d finally had his way with me, finally seduced me, and fucked the hell out of me. Of course, he’d moved on as if nothing had happened. It’s what men like him did to vulnerable women.
I knew I might be overthinking this, but it just felt better to be mad at him about something. Even if he’d used work as an excuse to stay away from me, I shouldn’t have been bothered by it. I hated his guts anyway.
Yet his absence, for some reason, left a void in me that nothing could fill. It was strange and frustrating, and that frustration only fanned the flames of my anger. I was pissed off at him for keeping his distance and still pissed at myself for noticing it.
I was the one who said the sex didn’t change anything. Yet I was the same person who couldn’t let go of the memory of our time together. The taste of his tongue still lingered on mine, and I could still hear his deep groans in the back of my head.
How could I forget how he made me feel? It was almost as though he’d burned himself into my soul. The man knew how to make me feel alive. He touched me in all the places I wanted to be touched. His kisses were deep and intense, his thrusts…oh, his thrusts!
The mere thought of that long, veiny cock deep inside me always stirred up unwanted emotions. Karik knew his way around a woman’s body—how to touch, where to touch, and when to touch.
The man was experienced in ways that made me jealous of the other women he’d been with. Jealousy was the last thing I should feel, but I couldn’t help it.
This distance was beginning to mess with my mind. I hated it. But not as much as I hated how badly I craved him again.
I’d stayed up late a couple of nights, playing with myself, imagining he was the one touching me. Not my proudest moments, by the way. I thought masturbating with the memory of our last encounter was going to help me.
It didn’t.
It only made it worse.
Hence, the reason for my frustration.
I despised myself for craving the same man I claimed to hate. Yes, I made a mistake by falling for his charms. But that was supposed to be a one-off. It was never supposed to happen again.
So why the fuck did every cell in my fuckin’ body want this man? Why did I long for him so badly?
Was this a sign I was slowly becoming addicted? Obsessed?
Fuck, no!
The very possibility scared the shit out of me. I didn’t want to fall so hard; I didn’t want to be in too deep to crawl out. This was a disaster.
Maybe if I had just listened to Agata and not confronted him that day, none of this would’ve happened. But if I were being honest, it was bound to happen sooner or later.
To get my mind off my sexual frustrations, I decided to bury myself in the cases I was reviewing. While at that, I found something shocking. The explosives supplier in the current case had ties to the same shell company involved in Vetrov’s case.
The company was called Arvex Solutions. It was registered eighteen months before the warehouse bombing. Eleven months later, it was dissolved.
What were the odds of two separate cases being tied to the same company?
Because I was only working with bits and pieces of the actual case, I couldn’t get the full story. My access was limited to the documents he provided. To figure this out, I needed more details.
He kept files like this in his study. If I wanted answers, that’s where I’d find them.
One cool evening, I sneaked into his study while he was away. The door was unlocked, so I slipped inside and closed it behind me. I froze for a moment, recalling the heated sex we had in here earlier in the week.
My eyes fell on his table, and those memories came rushing back all at once. The relentless strokes, the fervent kisses that left us breathless. The way he fondled my breasts and fingered my pussy with practiced ease.
A cold shiver shot down my spine, and for a moment, I almost forgot why I was here.
“Snap out of it,” I said to myself, smacking my own cheek.
After a few short breaths, I regained control of my thoughts and rushed to his desk. I skimmed through the files on the surface. Nothing useful. The bottom drawer was unlocked. I withdrew it and scanned the inside. Older documents, property records. Nothing connected to the Vetrov case.
I straightened, eyes roaming the interior until I spotted a cabinet along the left wall. Instinctively, I headed over and tried to open it, but it was locked.
“Great,” I mumbled under my breath, looking around for the key.
Then it hit me. My hair clip.
My hands reached up, pulled the pin holding my bun, and my hair fell loosely over my shoulders. With practiced ease, I slid the thin metal into the keyhole and began to twist gently.
Sixty-nine seconds. That’s how long until the lock gave way. Inside were two folders, stacked neatly, one on top of the other. I reached out and withdrew both, then opened the first one.
It had transaction records. Payments routed across six separate entities, each one dissolving within a year of the last transaction clearing.
I knew this was what I was looking for, so I skimmed through the pages. One name appeared multiple times across different routing points. Not Vetrov. Someone else entirely.
Niklaus Varro.
“Breaking and entering is a crime punishable by law.”
I flinched at the sudden sound of his voice, especially because I didn’t hear him come in. By the time I raised my head, he was already walking over to me, suited up in a way that made him look good.
Fuck.
I panicked. I thought I had more time because he wasn’t supposed to be back until midnight. Yet, here he was, in the flesh. Hot and very attractive.
My jaw tightened as I braced myself, watching him draw nearer. “It’s not breaking and entering since I didn’t break anything,” I said, my voice steady. “The door was unlocked.”
“The cabinet wasn’t.” He glanced at it before his eyes settled on me. “Sooner or later, we’re gonna talk about where you learned to pick a lock.”
His presence occupied the room, enough to trap me in place without touching. The scent of him invaded my senses, a subtle reminder of the way he’d handled me the last time.
I stared at him, my heart pounding like a drum, wondering what he was up to. Was he going to try to touch me again? Would he begin with a kiss or something more subtle?
Would I be able to resist him if he made the move? Did I have it in me to say no? Did I even want to say no?
“What’s that you’re holding?” he asked, his voice deep and husky.
I swallowed. “Who’s Niklaus Varro?”
Silence.
“He’s not in any of the court records, but he’s somehow linked to the Vetrov case,” I said. “And his name appears multiple times in your cabinet.”
He still didn’t say a word.
“Who is he, Karik?” I pressed on. “Is he the man you’re protecting?”
He stepped closer, his gaze never leaving my face. My heart raced even faster as he leaned in, his breath warm against my skin. “This case is closed for a reason. Leave it alone.” He snatched the file from me.
His eyes bore into mine a bit longer than necessary, as if searching for something. Or warning against something.
I stood there, frozen in place, unable to speak or move. Heat spread across my whole body, mixed with tension and anxiety. Right now, I was so vulnerable and weak that if he touched me, I’d surrender to him, not putting up a fight.
A part of me was hoping he’d make the first move and put me out of my misery. The other part was wishing that he’d just back away.
Karik straightened, and without another word, he turned around and left. It wasn’t until after he closed the door behind him that I realized I’d been holding my breath.
I leaned back against the cabinet, my heart pounding loudly in my chest. My fingers combed my hair as I struggled to stay composed.
As I glanced at the closed door, one question lingered. Was I relieved that he walked away, or disappointed that he didn’t touch me?