Chapter 12
DOMINIC
S he forgot to eat. My temper flared the moment she said that the last thing she had was that smoothie that she’d ordered in the morning. How could someone just forget to eat?
I looked at her as she demolished the entire pepperoni pizza. I had the veggie pizza box turned toward her before she could even ask. “Just one more slice,” she grumbled.
I shook my head, glaring at her. “You will not skip a meal again, Samaira.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you this bossy with your girlfriends?”
Oh, how I loathed someone rolling their eyes at me.
If she were mine, I’d have put her across my knees.
My gaze turned to the obscene shorts that she wore, and the thought of those tiny shorts riding up the back of her thick thighs, exposing the perfect curve of her cheeks, had my cock stirring in my sweats.
My hands tightened into fists as I restrained the urge to say something inappropriate and scare her off.
The moment I’d seen those short shorts, her thick quads, the golden-brown skin shining under the yellow gym lights, her hair falling down her back in messy waves, that choker around her neck, I’d not only lost my train of thought, I’d forgotten my own name.
The way she sat on the chair beside me, folding one of her legs onto the seat, had my eyes betraying my senses as they got distracted.
It took me a minute to comprehend the words she’d just spoken, and an excited flutter raced across my stomach. Was Samaira…fishing…for information? My lips instantly curled into a smile as I looked at her, and she quickly turned her gaze away from me, a dark red blush coating her cheeks.
I cleared my throat so she met my eyes and said, “First, I don’t have a girlfriend. Second, I am this bossy.”
She flushed and shook her head, getting back to the pizza.
Not wanting to make her uncomfortable, I pulled us back into familiar territory. “You find something in Sophie’s case?”
I caught a small, amused smile on her face—her eyes thanking me for the shift in the conversation—before she quickly swallowed the last bite of her pizza, wiped her hands with a tissue, and opened her laptop. “Now you’re asking me the right questions.”
I wiped my hands and sat up straighter, looking at Samaira as she laid down a stack of photos and pulled up what appeared to be a security camera recording of the gala on her laptop.
“How’d you find the gala footage? They told the cops that all their footage was lost in some server damage.”
Her lips curled in disgust. “That’s what they say when someone doesn't want you to look at the footage. It’s either the people at the gala or it’s the cops who’re hiding something from us.
Thankfully, we were able to hack into their server and get all the footage.
We also got the recordings from the cameras across the street and at the side alley. ”
My chest burned with rage at whoever hid so much vital information from us.
I moved closer to the screen, staring at people entering the gala one after the other, as Samaira continued, “Since Sophie mentioned that the guy was in a black wolf mask, I’ve separated every Caucasian guy with a black wolf mask.
I reviewed all the invitations that were sent out and all the ones that were scanned at the gala entrance as well.
Each scan was time-stamped, so I was able to verify whether the name on the invitation matched whoever entered the gala. ”
My mind was reeling with the information coming at me.
I kept up with Samaira as she spread out thirteen pictures on the desk.
When I looked at her in question, she said, “These are all the men who arrived at the gala in a black wolf mask. I was able to verify the invitation and the person who arrived.”
She crossed out nine of them. "I've verified the identities of these men using their names and the video footage.
They're all over fifty, and since Sophie also mentioned that the men who raped her were young, I suggest we exclude them for now to narrow the initial search.
The remaining four identities are questionable.
One arrived as a regular guest, and the other three used invitations issued under different names.
They might be connected to the original invitees, something we need to confirm.
I also have the names listed on the invitations those three used.
I called because I hoped you might recognize someone personally.
This way, we can potentially rule anyone out or prioritize them. "
She'd achieved more in a week than the cops and my PIs had in over four months.
For the first time, I felt genuine hope.
Before diving into the identities, I turned to Samaira.
When our eyes met, I almost reached across the desk for her hand resting there but quickly stopped myself.
“Thank you, Samaira. This…This is great work.”
She gave me a small smile and a nod. “We’ll get them, Dominic. I promise.”
I actually believed her.
I glanced at the crossed-out photos just to see if I recognized the men.
Samaira had written their names on the picture, considering every single one of them was in a mask.
Most of the crossed-out names belonged to businessmen in various industries, but they were well-known enough for me to recognize them.
I moved to the remaining four pictures. The one who’d arrived as a guest was a mystery to me.
But the person he’d arrived with was Sheila Bastion.
I picked up the picture of the masked man with a petite woman’s arm in his.
“Sheila Bastion. She’s a recent widow of one of our rival companies.
Anthony Bastion, her late husband, left her everything when he passed, and she spends her days going to galas with various boy toys by her side.
He might be her latest companion. I can call her tomorrow and ask her about him. ”
Excitement lit up her eyes. “Great. One less person for us to dig through. Keep going.”
Even at a time like this, when I was trying to identify my sister’s rapists, Samaira managed to tame the violent rage bubbling inside me.
She looked like she could slam ten guys twice her size with no effort.
But when she smiled at me, when she reassured me with that surety in her eyes, she looked like the warmest person to ever exist. She made me want to snuggle her in my arms and absorb all that warmth into me, to melt the bone-chilling guilt that constantly consumed my soul.
I picked up the next photo when the voices of two women reached us, just before the door to the basement opened, and Sloane and Lena walked in.
I’d seen them working out during our little fighting match, but right now, they were in all-black tactical gear, their respective masks pulled up over their heads.
Sloane had a black-and-pink cheetah mask, whereas Lena had a black-and-golden lioness mask. The moment Sloane noticed the two of us, a brilliant, mischievous smile lit up her face.
“Here we go,” Samaira muttered from beside me, pinching the top of her nose. I bit my lip to stop the laugh threatening to escape my chest.
Sloane winked at me and jabbed Lena, who was looking at her phone.
The moment Lena raised her eyes, her gaze stopped on us.
She immediately exchanged a teasing smile with Sloane as they quickly changed paths and made their way to us.
“Hey, guys, we didn’t know Dominic was coming tonight,” Lena said.
“Good evening, ladies. You want some pizza?” I greeted them when Samaira simply gave them a grunt without meeting their eyes.
They each grabbed a chair from the stack of chairs in the corner of the room and took a seat right across from Samaira and me. “I would love some. I’m starving,” Sloane said, grabbing a veggie slice. She quickly texted on her phone and said, “I’ve texted Tara to come upstairs if she wants pizza.”
Lena grabbed another slice and looked at the photos strewn across the table and the open laptop. “You make headway in the case?”
Samaira sighed. “You both are just going to sit here?”
Sloane had a delighted twinkle in her eyes as she turned to Samaira. “You don’t want us to stay here, Sami?”
Sami . It suited her. Especially when she turned bright red like right now. “I don’t care. We were just going over the list of suspects that I narrowed down. I asked Dominic to come by to see if he recognized any, or if he had any personal connection or animosity with any of them.”
As Samaira talked to them, both the ladies turned serious, nodding along. Right then, a hatch on the far side of the room opened, and another woman climbed out. Well, that was a surprise. How many more floors did they have beneath the basement?
She had half a mask covering the right side of her face.
The other half of her face was just as eye-catching.
This woman was stunning in her own right.
Her features were almost too perfect, with her bow-shaped lips, her golden-brown skin, and her hazel eyes.
I could make out some burn marks where the mask touched her skin, but I quickly ignored them.
Instead, I got up and extended my hand. “Hi. We meet again.”
She gave me a firm handshake and a small nod. “Tara. Thanks for getting us pizza.”
“Of course. It’s the least I can do for you all.”
While Sloane and Lena removed their masks from their heads and placed them on the desk, Tara’s mask seemed to be custom-designed so she could eat with half her lips covered by the mask.
“So who’re the suspects?” Lena asked, biting into the pizza, bringing everyone’s attention back to the topic at hand.
I picked up the photo of the next suspect—the one who didn’t match the name on the invite—and read the name under the image. “Thomas Cooper Sr. Obviously, the state attorney. And if he didn’t arrive at the gala, this could be his son, Thomas Cooper Jr.”