Chapter 27
Leo watched Molly sleep, admiring the gentle rise and fall of her body, astounded at the way the shadows made her look almost delicate. She was a wildfire in bed, he’d concluded after another round of sex, this time in the bedroom.
She loved fiercely, passionately, with her whole heart and body. How Johnny had the guts to treat her the way he did, Leo would never know. The man had her and a lovely daughter, the best wealth and treasures anyone could ask for, and had flushed it down the drain by being an arsehole.
What are you doing that’s different?
The voice was back. Now that he had nothing else to occupy him, his thoughts and memories had found their way back to the surface.
He’d thought, after a couple earth-shattering climaxes, he’d drop into deep sleep. He’d only managed to get a whole hour before he’d dreamt of a woman who looked eerily similar to his mother. And she repeated the same words at him: You killed Valentina. She loved you, and you killed her.
Valentina Ricci. His mother. The woman who had fought the world for him. Just like Molly fought for Rose.
Molly muttered something in her sleep, then rolled onto her stomach. Her hair was splayed all over Leo’s pillow, the reddish tone visible even in the dark.
He fought the urge to trace her back, to love her again. But he would soon have to face reality and acknowledge that by begging her to stay, he had in fact signed her up to lose.
Besides a bunch of obscure names, what did they even have?
Leo slid out of the bed and pulled on a pair of joggers. The staff that had come along with this house had stocked up the place with clothes and the like when he’d moved. The fact he had staff had been uncomfortable enough, but then to find a housecoat monogramed with his name?
He’d had to take a shower and scrub himself raw of that blatant hallmark of wealth.
Since then, he’d moved the staff onto helping out at other Buchanan Security venues, and he’d ensured those who wanted to continue working in hospitality were given better-paying jobs elsewhere. Now, he only had a housekeeper coming in once a week; he couldn’t manage this huge place on his own.
As far as the housecoat went, it hung in his closet, all the way in the back, never touched. He preferred his faded T-shirts, joggers, and the occasional hoodie in the house.
Leo padded towards his office, hoping Neil had sent him the folders. In his office, he poured himself some water—alcohol would only addle his mind—and sat at the huge desk. He had some files open on Barker, but so far, they hadn’t given him any clues into Newtar at all.
Reaching into the bottom drawer, he fetched his rattly old laptop, one of the few belongings he’d kept from his old life.
It had gotten him through some HR courses at the Open University during his transition into becoming the HR head.
With the new tech he used at work and owned at home, all belonging to the Buchanans, he hadn’t really needed to use this old device.
Now, he had to wait for it to charge enough to power it up.
Logging into his personal email, he found one from NeilGramx.
Graham had been the surname Neil had gone by his entire life before he’d been told he was a Buchanan.
He’d sent Leo a link to access the files because they were too large to send via email.
Leo followed the instructions and found himself staring at a plethora of folders.
After a quick reply to thank Neil, he began sifting through the information. After all the trouble Molly had gone through to get this data, he’d be damned if they found nothing from it.
Well, that wasn’t true. They had found out that Knox was involved in something. And that Johnny now knew Molly and Rose were with Leo. And, of course, that Leo was fucked up enough to keep them with him and watch history repeat itself.
You killed her. The woman in his dreams, his aunt, had been right.
Dressed in all black at the funeral, she’d screamed those words at him.
And all of his family, his mother’s family, had nodded.
Except for Anthony, the only cousin who lived in Scotland.
The man had stood silently in the corner and just as silently left after a murmured, I’m sorry for your loss.
Leo dropped his head, wishing history could be different. Objectively, he knew he hadn’t been responsible for his mum’s cancer. Or the fact that it had been found too late. But that knowledge hadn’t kept him from thinking about the what-ifs.
Perhaps he was a bad luck sign, and his fate was rubbing off on Molly and Rose. They didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve them.
He started from the topmost folder, someone by the name of Aaron Leider. Leo read each sentence, each word carefully. He tried to find similarities and patterns in the various résumés.
Nothing at all stood out to him.
When his eyes grew bleary from staring at the screen, he’d finally made it past S. He considered standing up for a minute and stretching his stressed muscles when the photo on his desk of Molly, Rose, and him caught his eye.
The sooner they got to the bottom of this, the sooner Molly and Rose would find peace.
So he continued, working diligently through the list. It took him a few more hours of work until the words literally swam on the screen and he had to scrub his eyes to focus.
The clock told him it was nearing morning now. Rose might even be stirring awake. She was genuinely a morning person, waking up with a grin every day.
And he was keeping her here, endangering her future now that Johnny E knew where she was.
That thought pushed his little discomfort aside. He stretched out his tight neck and got back to work. He had just a handful folders left to research.
Someone named Ursula Evans came next. He opened her file and was ready to dismiss it as another bland CV when he caught something under the professional career section.
She had worked at a chemicals factory. The name sounded very familiar to Leo.
It was the same factory his mother had been a warehouse worker at.
As this had been over fifteen years ago, Leo had to sit back and think.
They had been staying around Govan at the time, but the factory was near Shield’s Road, maybe?
Perhaps at Lancefield Quay before the area had gone through modernisation that made it look posh.
His brain didn’t quite remember, but seeing as his mother used to walk home, even when he insisted she take the subway, probably meant it was near Shield’s Road.
And Ursula Evans had worked there too.
Leo studied her work profile, then noticed the dates next to her professional experience. Ursula had worked at the chemicals warehouse about seventeen years ago. The same time as his mother had.
If that were true, she’d had to be nearing retirement age, or at least close to it, as a security company didn’t generally employ older people as agents.
Sure, older agents came in handy, but the job was physically taxing, and unless you had honed your body for it, most people in their sixties or up couldn’t manage what the job demanded.
But older agents or people who had experience in their field were great teachers.
Leo studied her profile. The latest place Ursula worked had been a pound shop. Had she left the shop to work for Newtar? Leo found the shop’s address using his Maps app. It was on Sauchiehall Street.
According to the résumé, she had worked there until five months ago. If she had switched from that job to Newtar, her former colleagues would know something.
He got up to fetch his coat and leave when he realised it was too early for shops to open. Hell, it was barely seven a.m.
The door opened with a slight click, and he looked up to see Molly tiptoeing inside, her curls wilder than usual, thanks to his exploratory hands.
She flushed when their eyes met. I was wondering if you’d decided to run away.
Leo smiled. Would be funny, after the wee speech I delivered last night.
Molly came over to him and hitched her hip on his chair’s arm. You okay?
There was no point in lying to her. Leo sighed, then rested his head on her shoulder. Couldn’t sleep.
No wonder the bed was ice cold. Molly shuddered. I was hoping for a quick round before Rose woke up.
Leo turned his head and kissed her bare skin. You’re insatiable, are you?
It’s just been so long, Molly whispered, her voice ending on a fluttery sigh when he kissed the inside of her wrist.
Perhaps sex would help him calm down, not to mention make him forget about the past once again.
Besides, his dick, despite the work pressure and lack of sleep, had been at half-mast all night.
He reached for the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it up.
Let’s see how many times you come while we make it from here to that sofa there.