Chapter 13
POPPY
Monday mornings were rougher than usual after I met Colter. I had even more reason to want to stay home than to go to work. Especially today, after such a great weekend.
He brushed his lips against mine. “Have a good day, baby.”
“I’ll try,” I huffed. “But there’s no way it’s going to top how we spent yesterday. Or the barbecue on Saturday. Not even the pasta dinner you made on Friday.”
“Glad you had so much fun with me.” He gave me another kiss, then patted my butt. “Promise we’ll have more tonight.”
I beamed a smile at him. “I’m sure we will.”
“Text me when you’re done, baby.” His thumb stroked my lower back before he murmured, “I’ll be here.”
My mind was still on him as I walked into the building, vaguely returning my coworkers’ greetings. I was still floating when I spotted two men in dark suits standing near the reception desk.
One was older, maybe late fifties, with silver at the temples and wire-rimmed glasses. The other was probably in his thirties, with an athletic build and eyes that tracked the people around him. When his gaze zeroed in on me and he jerked his head in my direction, I stumbled to a stop.
Sarah bumped into my back. “Oops. Sorry, Poppy.”
“It’s okay. Totally my fault.” I waved off her concern. “I didn’t realize you were right behind me.”
Her gaze followed mine, and she stood a little taller and fluffed her hair. “Nice. He’s not as hot as your guy, but I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed.”
I shook my head, my nose wrinkling at her obvious appreciation of Colter.
“No judging when you’ve scored a hot guy for yourself.” She poked my side. “The rest of us girls need to lower our standards sometimes.”
The guy she was drooling over strode toward us, stopping me from replying to Sarah.
“Miss Fairbanks?”
When I nodded, Sarah whispered, “Put in a good word for me,” before hurrying toward the elevator.
He gestured toward the man with him. “We need to speak with you about some transactions you’ve cleared.”
“Okay.” My stomach was in knots as I pointed toward a conference room that was available to the building’s tenants. “We can ask Carl if we can talk in there.”
“Carl?” he echoed, his brows drawing together.
“The security guard,” I explained before walking over to the reception desk to confirm the conference room was available.
I was relieved when he passed me the key.
The last thing I wanted was to bring these men up to my office.
I had no idea which transactions they wanted to discuss, but I didn’t want to raise any red flags with my boss.
Avoiding that until I knew more about what was going on seemed like a good plan.
They followed me into the room, and I took the chair nearest the door, my knees feeling a little weak. “What’s going on?”
The younger one smiled without warmth. “We’re with CFPB. Just a routine inquiry. Nothing formal. This won’t take long.”
Having someone from the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau stop by with questions about transactions I cleared was something you couldn’t exactly plan for.
When I was hired, Mr. Hopkins warned me about how stressful audits were, but he never mentioned what to expect if they stopped by to speak with you specifically.
“I hope not because I need to clock in soon.” Assuming I hadn’t messed up so badly that I lost my job this morning.
The older one opened a slim leather folio. “We’ve been reviewing certain patterns. Several flagged transactions cleared through your queue over the past few weeks.”
I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. “That’s my job. I’m a junior compliance assistant. I review flags, follow supervisor guidance, and approve if there are no escalation indicators.”
The younger guy leaned forward. “And you found no escalation indicators on any of these?”
I skimmed the list he shoved in front of me. “No, everything lined up with the client profile. And the amounts were so low, I honestly thought it was a glitch. I couldn’t find any reason that they raised any red flags in the first place.”
“Interesting.” The older one tucked the report back in his folio. “Those transactions originated from accounts tied to entities we’re actively monitoring. The kind that usually trigger deeper review.”
My mouth went dry. “I-I didn’t see anything that indicated risk. My supervisor’s protocol was clear. If it’s routine and documented, approve.”
The younger one tilted his head. “You’re saying you never questioned the pattern?”
I shook my head. “I’m not an investigator. I just follow the rules I’m given.”
They got to their feet, and the older one flashed me an insincere smile. “Of course. We’re not suggesting misconduct. Just curiosity. A junior analyst clearing high-volume flags without escalation could look like negligence. Or worse.”
The implication was obvious. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“That’s what we’re trying to determine.” The younger guy reached for the door. “We’ll be in touch if we need to speak again.”
They left the conference room, but I sat there for a full minute, my hands shaking in my lap. It wasn’t until I stood that I realized something many of the transactions they asked about had in common—they were for businesses owned by the Hounds of Hellfire.
Before I went to my office, I sent a quick text to Colter.
Me
Can you pick me up at four? I’m going to work through lunch so I can leave an hour early.
Luckily, dots popped up right away, letting me know he was typing out his response.
Colter
Of course, baby.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of fear. For my job, Colter, and his club. By four, I was a wreck.
I rushed out of the office and found him waiting at the curb in his SUV. As soon as I slid into the passenger seat, he took one look at my face, and softness wiped from his expression. “What happened?”
I burst into tears.
He pulled me across the console onto his lap, one hand cradling the back of my head while I sobbed against his neck.
“Talk to me,” he murmured when the worst of it eased.
I hiccupped. “Not yet. Please take me home. I can’t do this here.”
“Okay, baby. Whatever you need.”
He drove faster than usual, making it to his house in only eight minutes. After he guided me inside and got us settled on the couch in the living room, he finally urged, “Tell me now.”
“Two men from CFPB were waiting for me in the building lobby this morning.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “That stands for the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau. They oversee—”
“I know who they are, baby.”
“Oh, right.” Sometimes I forgot he was a financial wiz. “They asked about some low-risk transactions I’ve cleared over the past few weeks. Said some of them are tied to accounts they’re monitoring. Implied I should’ve escalated. That it could look like negligence. Or worse.”
His body tensed beneath me. “Fucking hell.”
“That’s not the worst of it.” I pulled back to meet his eyes. “A lot of the accounts are tied to the Hounds. What if I messed up and put you guys at risk?”
He cupped my cheeks and wiped away my tears with his thumbs. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But they said—”
“Fuck what they said. I doubt they were even who they said they were.” He gave me a quick kiss. “They’re fishing, Poppy. But you don’t need to worry. You cleared the transactions because the documentation was clean, and they never should’ve been flagged in the first place.”
He didn’t seem the least bit surprised. “You already knew?”
“I suspected someone might come sniffing eventually. Didn’t think they’d go straight to you.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “But they did. And they’ll fucking pay for it.”
“What if they come back?” I whispered.
“You call me, and I’ll take care of it.” His hold on me tightened. “Okay.”
He kissed me again. “You go about your days like nothing has changed. I’ll take care of everything.”
“If you’re sure that’s what I should do, then I will.”
He studied me for a long moment, then brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re not alone anymore. Whatever comes, I’ve got you. And the club’s got your back, too. You’re mine, Poppy. That means no one touches you.”
Fresh tears spilled, but they weren’t from fear this time. It was impossible to be scared when I had this incredible man at my side, ready to protect me from anything that came my way.