Chapter Ten
“All right,” Oliver began with a huff as he
closed the door and walked back to his seat. “What do we know about the target?
Shouldn’t Vivi be here? I thought we were doing the team thing. By the way,
heard you met the parents. How did that go?”
Mal settled into the chair across from Oliver’s oddly neat
desk. So much of Oliver seemed chaotic and impish, but in his private spaces
there was always order, like he needed to ruthlessly organize the places he
could. His office was tucked into a corner overlooking the street. It was
masculine, with dark colors and wood all around. Mal liked this office. There
was something peaceful about it. “Vivi is in a session. She’s got them all
afternoon. She asked me to handle this. After all, she knows the information in
that packet well. As for her father, it went about as well as one would expect.
I would bet I’m getting a vetting the likes of which the company hasn’t seen
before.”
Her family was…a lot, but he could handle it. He might
actually enjoy being around them. He’d been around men like her father and
uncle his entire career. He found them to be almost soothing. They’d bickered
with Damon and each other, and Mal had found himself relaxing. Of course, that
might have had something to do with the fact that Vivian had been sitting on
his lap practically purring. At one point he was almost certain she’d drifted
off, and that had made him feel ten feet tall.
“How many times did her uncle threaten you with medieval
torture? He’s quite good at it.”
“Yes, he’s excellent with threats.” Ian Taggart was a legend
in the business, but he never thought that his first meeting with the man would
include Taggart offering to show him his own entrails. As first meetings went,
it was a wild one.
“Oh, I meant the actual torture. I worked a job with him.
Let’s say he saved probably fifty thousand people from a terrorist attack, but
I’m fairly certain the method he chose of extracting information from that
bomber was for my benefit.” Oliver sighed. “Well, I had been hitting on his
wife. And then his daughters. It’s not my fault they’re all gorgeous.”
He was starting to get worried about Oliver. Hearing
Vivian’s relatives talk about him had him thinking. “You know you can’t always
play a role, Oliver. At some point you have to figure out who you are without
the cover.”
“But the cover is my job,” Oliver argued.
“Yes, and in the beginning, I would have said you can handle
it, but I worry you’re sinking too far into it,” Mal said. “Does anyone know
what happened in Tunisia?”
It had been one of the first jobs he’d backed up Oliver on.
He’d had to extract him, and he wasn’t sure his friend had come out whole.
Oliver’s jaw tightened, and there was the aristocrat that
always hid behind the playboy’s surface. “No one knows more than what’s written
into the reports, Mal, and I expect it to stay that way.”
He knew the horrors his friend had gone through and the
betrayal that went even deeper. He worried it wasn’t the scars that kept
pushing Oliver Knight deeper into the persona he’d created. It was that
heartache. The horror of knowing how brutally false the world could be.
Mal should know. He wasted years thinking if he built walls,
he would be safe. At one point he’d thought Oliver was smart, but now he
worried his friend was just hiding. “You haven’t even talked to Ariel?”
Oliver’s head shook. “I don’t talk to Ariel. She’s been like
an aunt my whole life. I’m not about to tell her what a fucking idi…” He took a deep breath and seemed to calm. The mask
slid right back into place. The operative. Oliver had many masks. Mal was
starting to worry he didn’t remember which ones were real. “Of course I’ve
talked things through with a therapist. Sami and Robert and I use another
therapist when we need one since we’re too close to Ariel. I’m good, but thanks
for asking.”
Mal seriously doubted that, but he couldn’t push Oliver too
hard.
Oliver placed a hand on his folder. “We should get down to
business since we only have a few days before I need to introduce Vivian
around.”
This was the part of the plan that rather worried him. “I
know we talked a lot about how unknown Vivian is, but didn’t she spend time in
that circle with that moron?”
“Yes, she did, but not very long and honestly, Tarquin’s
family is minor. He talks a good game about money, but the family’s living off
old glory and tourists coming to their historic house,” Oliver explained. “I
believe Tarquin was using Vivian to get close to Sophy. Which is precisely why
I set up that conversation and sent Vivian to listen.”
“You did what?”
Oliver shrugged. “Vivian is stubborn. When I tried to tell
her, she thought I was being overly protective. I had to show her. Tarquin
knows I’m the one who sold him out and that I would do it a hundred times over.
I would do it for fun because he’s toxic. No one will be terribly surprised
I’ve taken Vivian as my latest girlfriend. He accused me of trying to steal her
before. It will be fine. I’m actually rather glad that Tarquin didn’t look much
beyond her gorgeous face and banging bod. He thought she was Sophy’s poor
friend. He never even connected her last name to the company. If he had, he
would have fought far harder.”
“Vivian’s family owns part of a business, but…” He hadn’t
thought about it before. Somehow in his head Damon was the chief owner and the
American branch was an offshoot, but he hadn’t asked. “They’re not wealthy like
your father.”
Oliver chuckled, clearly more confident now that he was in
the position of knowing something Mal didn’t. “I assure you the McKays can run in my parents’ circle. My father’s family
wealth was gone by the time he came of age. He had enough to buy this building.
He had to fix it up over the years. His money comes from this company now, and
he was brought in after the American branch. The McKays
and Taggarts might not have the societal status my father has because of his
birth, but they can do whatever they wish.” His eyes narrowed. “You don’t like
that thought, do you?”
It didn’t matter because it wasn’t as if she was thinking
long term with him. She’d made herself clear. And he was clear, too. He had a
savior complex when it came to Vivian. He wasn’t going to ruin the rest of her
life over it.
And you know you could change her mind if you wanted to.
She’s young, and while she’s got a brilliant mind, she’s na?ve about some
things. She longs for a partner to take care of and to take care of her. She
could be yours.
He shoved the thoughts aside because it made him ache and he
wanted to feel good thinking about her. “It’s not like we’re getting married.
We have a perfectly planned D/s relationship. In a few weeks, we’ll take
another look and see if it’s working out for the both of us. We should get back
to the case.”
The look in Oliver’s eyes let him know he was shelving the
discussion. For now. “I’ve made an in-depth case study of Kirkallan,
but I’ve never heard of Kit Lowe. I didn’t realize he moved in their circles.”
“He’s apparently an old friend of the groom’s, or rather
their families are friendly.” This was part of what they’d worked on all
weekend.
“So we’re dealing with a coder,” Oliver said as though that
would be perfectly easy.
“A brilliant coder who went through a lot during his
childhood. Losing his parents and moving to France,” he explained, though
Vivian had been the one to write the first draft of the profile. Watching how
carefully she worked… Well, it made him horny, but then everything about her
made him horny. “He was placed in an exclusive boarding school. From the
records he was there from the age of nine until he graduated at fourteen and entered
a college program.”
“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Oliver said with a shake
of his head. “He couldn’t have made friends.”
“No. From what we can tell he didn’t, and he required a
chaperon at almost all times.” He flipped through the file. “A woman named
Harriet Moreau. From what we can tell she was with Kit until he turned
eighteen. Shortly after she was let go, Harriet was killed by a mugger. The odd
thing is Kit did not attend the funeral and refused to pay for it. Kit hired on
at Dunham a few months after he graduated.”
Oliver frowned as he looked through his folder. “He’s got a
spotty employment history. After Dunham, he didn’t work for a couple of years,
and then he gets a job with one of Europe’s richest think tanks and he’s
working on AI again. He’s there for two and a half years and then quits and
moves back to London to start his own consulting company. The rumor is Kirkallan is thinking about investing heavily.”
“Yes. That’s your connection,” Mal agreed. “Though it
started earlier than we suspected. His father worked for Kirkallan
as an engineer. David Lowe worked directly under Edward’s father. I believe
that’s why he came back to England after all those years abroad and why the Kirkallans were willing to back him. He still travels to
France. His aunt passed, but I suspect he still has relatives there and perhaps
friends since he worked there for a few years.”
Oliver sat back. “Vivian said he’s involved in charity
work?”
Mal nodded. “He works with a group that helps girls get
education in STEM studies. They try to identify young women with talent in the
sciences and help them get what they need, whether it’s money for tuition or a
ride to school. Vivian was impressed. Especially since he seems to be something
of a loner these days. He doesn’t make many social appearances, and I have yet
to find anyone who would call him a friend. But I’m sure Vivian will get him to
talk. Everyone talks to Vivian.”
Oliver’s lips curled up slightly. “Yes, sweet Vivian, who
will be playing the role of my girlfriend.”
“And I’ll be playing the role of the overly possessive
asshole who will kill you if you touch her more than necessary.”
Oliver sighed. “We will have to work on the whole meaning of
necessary, but I’m surprised you’re fine with this.”
“I trust Vivian and I trust you.”