Chapter 24
twenty-four
ROSE
Three weeks pass. Thanks to Dare’s people, Eric is rumored to be off, partying. No one has questioned the story, and no cops have come kicking Dare’s door in. The story won’t last forever, but at least for now, I’m safe.
There was more work to be done with Futurum than I thought, and with the time that’s passed, my window to take Dare down is quickly narrowing. In the days since the incident with my dad, Dare has been distant. Which is fine by me. I was already planning to put up some walls. I only hate that he did it first.
He’s always one step ahead of me.
While there may be distance between us, some things remain the same.
Remy or some other body guard is around any time either of us goes out.
Dare’s food is delicious.
Every night, I go to sleep in the guest bedroom, and every morning, I wake up in Dare’s embrace .
Oddly enough, when he holds me, the nightmares don’t come. Maybe my subconscious understands there’s no point in tormenting me when Dare’s around, because the beast is frustrating enough to drive me mad.
Today, the last day of my weekend, I’m hiding in the guest room, sitting crisscross on the bed, sketchbook in hand. The sound of pencil scraping over the paper soothes the discontent inside of me. I lose myself in my work, almost compelled to draw, as if the monsters will come for me if I don’t get them out of my head and onto paper.
Doors slam in the primary bedroom, but I ignore them. He’s awake and annoyed I left him alone in bed. Good. Now he knows how I feel. Almost an hour passes before Dare’s footsteps slow outside of the bedroom.
Pausing, I glance at the shadows looming in the space between the door and the floor, holding my breath. My chest tightens, preparing for yet another round of verbal sparring, but after a moment, Dare continues on, leaving for work, even on a Sunday. It doesn’t take a genius to guess why Dare leaves his house every day. He doesn’t want to be around me longer than he has to.
I ignore the way my shoulders sag when the front door shuts and glance at what I’ve been drawing.
My mouth twists to the side.
It isn’t a monster looking back at me. It’s Dare. The hard lines of his face. The scar cutting through one eyebrow. The narrowed eyed look he seems to save just for me. He’s beautiful.
Scowling at the paper, I rip it out and crumple it up, tossing it toward the bin. So much for getting the monsters out of my head. I flip through the pages of my sketchbook and pause on a drawing of shadowed beasts hunting a woman. One figure stands out larger than the rest.
In my imagination, they have claws and fangs, but in my art, they’re clearly human. That’s the reality of it. The paranormal isn’t real. The person responsible for my mom’s murder is still out there.
Dad hired multiple PIs when the cops failed to find her killer. They never figured out what happened. But someone has to know something. Vittoria Miller was one of the richest women in the world. Something niggles at the back of my mind, but if I let myself think about Mom for too long, I won’t have time to search Dare’s house again.
Leaving the sketchbook behind, I return to Dare’s room—the one he claims is ours—and shower and change into a pair of simple leggings and a soft shirt. I eye the bed, wondering why he insists on me sleeping with him. It’s not like we trade midnight secrets, and with my new vow of abstinence, we’re not having sex.
Does he want me close?
No. That’s dumb. He’s doing it to get inside my head.
Pushing all thoughts of Dare aside, I start my search. Now that everything is set for Futurum’s grand opening, I can finally get started on finding something to use against Dare. Something real. Maybe in the process, I can find where he hid the murder weapon. If I find that, most of my problems are solved.
Although I did a quick and frantic search of the home the first day I was here, I’m more methodical now, taking my time to check under, around, behind, and everywhere in between. This time, I’m focused.
There’s probably nothing useful, but I’m determined to at least verify that thought. The comforter and sheets are still rumpled from our sleep. I glare at the bed as I head toward it, sinking to my knees and slipping my hands beneath the mattress and box spring, smoothing my palm between the headboard and the wall. My fingers brush over the cool metal of a gun.
Not damning evidence, by any means, but it’s good to know that there’s a weapon close by. I leave the gun and bed and turn to the closet. Ties. Expensive suits and shoes. More clothes than any one man would ever need. A drawer full of joggers. I consider throwing them away, but then I’d only be depriving myself of that gorgeous view. If I can’t fuck the man, at least I can appreciate his body.
The bathroom, the guest rooms, the closets, the laundry room. Nothing. Of course, I didn’t expect it to be so simple.
Aside from a quick breakfast, the next three hours are spent searching every inch of Dare’s home. Drawer after drawer, cabinet after cabinet, room after room. My heart slams against my rib cage and my breaths are heavy by the time I stop outside of his office.
I’ve searched through everything else. All that’s left is the room that might get me in the most trouble if I’m caught, but some risks are worth it. There’s still plenty of time left in the workday. If I don’t do it now, I might not get the chance again.
I take a breath and push inside. Except for the desk, everything is meticulously organized. The books on the shelves behind the desk aren’t sorted in any particular way, but the bookshelves are free of clutter. The throw blanket for the leather chair in the corner of the room is perfectly folded. The plants are all healthy and happy.
The space is almost inviting.
Looking through every door, behind every book, takes time, but I’m determined, and after an hour, I’m left empty-handed. The knife that slit Eric’s throat is nowhere to be found.
The filing cabinet and safe both have some type of fancy biometric lock. I snap pictures and send them to Cassia, in hopes she’ll be able to help me break them.
Cassia
No can do, love. Those are retina scanners. I’m good, but I’m not that good.
Rose
No worries. Did you call Orion?
Yeah. He’s found a link between a shell company and the collection company.
Orion is the best of the best. He’ll help you figure it out.
Neither of us brings up what happens once she figures out who was responsible for ruining her dad’s life and indirectly leading to his death. Locking the device, I slip the phone into my pocket and pick through the papers covering Dare’s desk. Corporate paperwork. A contract or two. Nothing I can use against him. The computer monitor is sleeping, but two clicks of the spacebar wakes it.
The lock screen demands a passcode. I don’t have enough information to try and guess. If there’s one thing I don’t understand, it’s Dare. I have no idea what he’d use. I don’t know any significant dates...wait. Actually, I know one date.
The day his parents died.
One attempt won’t hurt anything.
I enter the date, rolling my eyes when the computer chirps in protest. “Of course not,” I grumble to myself.
“What are you doing?”
My head snaps in Dare’s direction. His eyes are blazing with fury, and he blocks the only exit from the room. Pulse skittering, I hold his angry stare and keep my mask of boredom in place. There’s no point in playing innocent.
“Snooping,” I admit, despite the icy fear trickling through my veins.
What will he do now that he’s found me here, clearly searching for something to use against him?
“What are you looking for, Rose?”
Again. No point in lying. “Proof that you’re as terrible as they all say.”
Dare hums, eyes hardening. “And what is it that they say?”
“You already know.”
He shrugs. “No, Rose. Tell me what it is you think I’ve done.”
My eyebrows slam together. “You killed your parents. Your company has destroyed countless lives. And you’ve killed others because you’re?—”
“You don’t know anything about me,” he says, voice low and dangerous, the words cutting through the air as harsh as any shout. His features harden. “I keep waiting for you to stop being his puppet.”
My hackles rise. “My dad has nothing to do with this.” I hate being seen as nothing more than a pet my dad brings out to do fancy party tricks. Although I’ve had every advantage in the world, that doesn’t mean I haven’t worked. I’ve spent years studying, learning the company. I’m as useful as any man on the board. But...I have done everything my dad has asked, haven’t I?
Dare barks out a laugh. “Really, Rose? Why are you lying to yourself?”
As always, Dare sees too much. And I hate him for it. I hate that pretentious look on his pretty face. I hate that he has something on me. I hate that he thinks he knows who I am. He doesn’t know a damn thing.
“I know you’re hiding something, and I’m going to figure it out, Dare,” I say, narrowing my gaze.
Frustration lines his face. “And then what?”
I’m ready to tell him exactly what will happen, but he arches an eyebrow, imploring me to think. The murder weapon. He has it. Even if I find something, what can I do with the information? It’s all pointless until I find that knife. Irritation rolls through me. I hate that he’s cut me at the knees.
Time is running out. There are three months left before my dad disinherits me, and I’m not prepared to lose the only family I have left.