Chapter 25
Dream
Iabsentmindedly fiddle with the chopsticks in my hand as my gaze floats to the brand-new bookshelf in the corner of Theo’s living room.
I don’t know why, but the fact he wasn’t lying irritates me.
I should be pleased that he told me the truth.
That he’s put my muddled concerns to rest. But those concerns, those unsettling flashes of suspicion, are still actively residing in my mind.
I can’t even bring myself to actualize the thoughts.
And Theo is at the center of the deadly unspoken question.
“You’ve barely touched your food,” Theo notes, pushing aside his half-eaten container of chicken chow mein. “Is something wrong?”
I want to scream ‘yes’ out into the universe. I want my voice to echo in every corner of the world. I want a voice to shout back with an answer, an explanation. Something is wrong. I can feel it in my bones. But then he looks at me with those soulful amber eyes, and I forget.
“I feel like we’re chasing a ghost,” I say, sighing. “It’s been months and we’ve got no solid leads.”
“Hey.” Theo reaches across the dining room table. He takes my hand in his, giving my palm a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll catch him, Safia. I promise. This will all be over very soon.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “You seem confident.”
He gives me a small smile. “Every chase eventually comes to an end, little lamb.”
I bite my lower lip, my gaze shifting down to our clasped hands. It’s amazing how perfectly our fingers intertwine. It’s as if his body was molded to be a cocoon for my own. When he holds me, my skin no longer tingles, my stomach no longer flutters. The sensation I feel is cemented comfort.
Peace.
He grounds me with every kiss, with every touch. When he looks at me, every conceivable problem appears to be solved in a matter of seconds. Appearances can be deceiving, though. I need to remember that solemn fact.
My phone chimes and a text notification from Amir appears on the screen. I pull my hand away from Theo and read the message.
Don’t forget about Friday, Saffy. Also, this might be obvious but you need to wear black or white or both. No other color. Call the stylist I use. She’ll help you. Love you! xx PS… did you invite Gigi yet?
I sigh, flipping my phone over. Damn it.
“What’s wrong?” Theo asks, studying my wary features.
“What’re you doing on Friday?” I ask Theo, inwardly dreading a night of elitist interactions.
Theo perks a brow, smirking. “Are you asking me out on a date, little lamb?”
I shoot him a playful scowl. “Technically my brother is asking you out on a date.”
Theo grins. “Well, in that case, he should know that I don’t put out on the first date.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s the Marquis Foundation’s Black and White Ball. Amir purchased a table. He’d like us to, uh—to join him.”
Theo expels a soft laugh. “Why do I get the feeling your brother has ulterior motives for inviting me?”
“Because he does,” I say, tilting my head. “I believe he wants to make sure your intentions with his sister are pure.”
Theo’s expression darkens. “Oh, little lamb, there is nothing pure about my intentions.”
“No?” My breath hitches as Theo stands up. He rounds the dining room table like a lion hunting his prey. I tip my chin up, my lips craving a deadly collision as our eyes lock. “Tell me, Theodore… What are your intentions?”
He threads his fingers through my loose curls, his nails scraping against my scalp. He towers over me like a shadow cast from an ancient oak tree—full of dark secrets and forgotten history.
“I intend to make you mine, Safia Hadid,” he rasps, lifting me to my feet with the gentle force of his hand.
He arches over, his breath teasing the slope of my neck as he whispers, “You will be mine physically…” He runs a tense, hungry hand down my spine.
“Emotionally…” I throw my head back as he presses passionate wet kisses across my collarbones.
“And someday…” His hooded eyes dance across my flush cheeks. “Legally.”
My heart hammers as my chest rises and falls. “I’ve never dreamt of rings, Agent Kane.”
A devilish grin clips his lips. “Dreams can change, Dr. Hadid,” he rasps, tucking a piece of a wayward hair behind my ear. “Before you, I only had nightmares.”
“Oftentimes, nightmares are simply a manifestation of stress,” I say breathlessly as I melt into his touch. “Were you stressed before you met me, Agent Kane?”
“I’ve been stressed for decades, Dr. Hadid,” he says. “But that era is coming to an end.”
“Because of me?”
He presses a chaste kiss on my forehead. “Yes, little lamb. All because of you.”
Gigi snorts, nearly choking on a sip of diet soda. “I’m sorry, what?”
I close my eyes, mentally cursing Amir for making me a damn messenger. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, okay? I totally understand if you’d rather keep your distance with my brother.”
Gigi purses her lips in contemplation as we linger in the hallway outside the staff kitchen. “It’s free?”
I blink. “You’re seriously considering it?”
Gigi gives me a lazy shrug. “I mean, it’s the Black and White Ball, Safia. I’ve seen it covered on TV for years. Plus, I hear the party favors are insane. Last year, I think they gave out Rolex watches or something.”
I narrow my eyes on her. “If you come with us, Amir is going to think he has a chance with you.”
Gigi smirks knowingly. “Would that be so bad? A man like Amir should experience a little bit of groveling in his lifetime, don’t you think?”
I tilt my head. “You shouldn’t play games with him, Gigi. My brother tends to always get what he wants.”
Gigi scoffs. “Which is exactly why he should learn a lesson or two. Call it character growth.” She points to the cell phone in my hand. “Tell him I’m in.”
I shake my head, sighing. “You’re going to regret this, Giselle.”
“No, Safia, I won’t.” Gigi snorts, walking away. “But he might.”
As I walk back to my desk, I text Amir the good news. He’ll probably have a heart attack when he sees the message. I silence my phone, refusing to be on the receiving end of his giddiness. He thinks he’s two steps away from getting laid. I don’t want to crush his misguided spirit.
“Hey! Safia!” Zoey calls out, her head popping up over her desk. “I finished the financials sweep on Hank Jefferies like you asked.”
I scurry to Zoey’s desk, eager for the results. Senator Jefferies's wife mentioned he paid off around $100,000 in debt. That record must be somewhere.
“And?”
Zoey hands me a stack of printed bank documents. “I didn’t find anything. There were no significant deposits or withdrawals in May of 2008. If he paid his debt off with cash, it wasn’t through conventional banking.”
“Fuck.” My jaw tenses. “Does he have any offshore accounts?”
Zoey casts me an apologetic look. “If he did, I doubt I’d be able to track them down. They’re offshore for a reason.”
I slam the documents on the desk, frustration palpable. “Then how the hell did he pay off the debt?”
She chews on her bottom lip. “Well, I mean…not all debt needs to be paid with cash.”
My brows pinch together. “As in…”
Zoey swallows, slightly wincing. “Sometimes, when The Angels had to collect on a debt, we’d—they’d—take a favor as payment.”
I perk a brow. “A favor?”
Zoey fidgets with the pencil in her hand. “Mhmm…”
I cross my arms, gaze lowered to Zoey’s black computer monitors. “What kind of favor equates to one hundred grand?”
“A big one, I’d imagine,” Zoey hums.
My jaw nearly hits the floor when Theo emerges from his bedroom, donning a slim fitted black tuxedo.
The fabric clings to his sturdy, muscular frame, and I physically need to hold the dining room table to keep myself upright.
Theo glides a delicate hand over his slicked back hair and struts toward me, gaze dark and brooding.
“You, uh…” I blink, mouth dry. “You clean up very nice.”
Theo gives me a slow, greedy once-over, the tendons in his neck flexing. “I may have cleaned up, little lamb, but you look very dirty to me.” He cocks his head, spinning his index finger in the air. “Give me a little twirl.”
My pulse quickens as I turn on my heel.
“Slowly,” he rasps, his gaze burning a hole in the ten thousand dollar couture gown. “Let me savor you.”
As I twirl around, I glance down at the dress Amir’s stylist helped me pick out for tonight.
The thin white fabric binds to my curves, sheer enough to feel daring, but adorned with intricate pearlescent embroidery that glimmers with every movement I make.
It feels like I’m wearing liquid starlight.
And Theo… Well, Theo appears to be mesmerized by the night sky.
He sucks in a sharp breath, dragging the pad of his thumb across his bottom lip. “I have half a mind to rip that dress right off of you.”
I give him a sultry smile. “You wreck it, you buy it.”
Theo cocks his head. “Don’t tempt me, little lamb.”
Before I can come up with a witty rebuttal, my phone chimes, indicating that Amir is downstairs in the limousine.
“Ready?” I ask Theo as I grab a pearl shell-shaped clutch off the counter.
“Ready.” He clears his throat, briefly straightening out his bow tie. He offers me an arm. “Shall we?”
Amir’s driver stands beside the black stretch SUV limousine, holding the backdoor open for us. The street lights flicker as we approach the vehicle, and my chest tightens.
Theo adjusts his grip on my hand, his fingers gliding against the pulse point on my wrist.
He glances down at me, frowning. “Your heart is beating very fast. Are you nervous?”
I don’t lie.
“Yes,” I say. “I appear to be quite nervous.”
Theo gives me a small, satisfied smile. “Why?”
The question is a formality. Theo already knows the answer. I may be thirty years old, but there’s a part of me that still seeks approval. I want Amir to like Theo. I want my brother’s approval. I give Theo a knowing look, and he brings my cold hand to his lips.
“Relax, little lamb. Everything will be fine, I promise.”
“You’ve been making a lot of promises lately,” I whisper.
He hitches a shoulder. “Only ones I know I’ll be able to keep.”
The driver tips his head at us as we stop in front of the limousine. “Good Evening, Dr. Hadid, Agent Kane.” He gestures for us to slide inside the vehicle. “You both look lovely tonight.”
Theo and I mutter out a thank you, and I hold my breath as we climb into the decked-out limo.
Amir’s bright shining smile nearly blinds me as the door shuts, trapping us in a confined space with my brother.
“Pour them some champagne, Amir. Jesus, you’re so rude.”
I blink, snapping my gaze to the far end of the limo. Gigi is sprawled in the back seat, her black lace gown fanned across the leather seats. She holds a flute of champagne precariously by the thin stem. Her ruby red lips twist into a smirk as she tosses me a sly wink.
“Nice dress, Saf,” Gigi says. “I didn’t think you had that in you.”
“Thank you.” I clear my throat. “Amir, this is Theodore Kane. Theo, this is my brother.”
Amir’s groomed brows squeeze together as he leans over, offering Theo a handshake.
“It’s nice to finally meet the infamous Agent Kane,” Amir says, and I want to smack my brother upside the head.
“I appreciate you giving my little sister a place to stay. I did offer to put her up at The Plaza, but apparently your apartment was much more to her liking.” He grins at me.
“And now I see why. He’s a good-looking man, Saffy. ”
I don’t need a mirror to know my face is beet red. “How about that champagne, huh?” I give Amir a tight-lipped smile. “And none of that half glass bullshit.”
Gigi’s laugh floats across the limousine. “Oh God, tonight is going to be fucking fun. I can feel it.”
Amir glances back at Gigi, smirking. “I love a woman with a dirty mouth.”
Gigi rolls her eyes, keeping her distance from Amir. “And I love men who keep their mouths closed.”
Amir shakes his head, chuckling as he pours me and Theo a glass of bubbly.
“That’s a nice tux, Theo,” he notes, lifting a brow. “Rent or own?”
My brother, the elitist.
Theo takes a small sip of champagne. “Own.”
Amir grins. “Good man. Owning is so much better than renting.”
Theo’s dark gaze flicks toward me, settling on my lips. “Agreed.”
A buzz of excitement rushes through me as Theo continues to stare at me, as if I’m the only person in the limo, in the world. I clear my throat to sever the electrifying tether.
“Who else is at our table?” I ask Amir.
My brother rubs his chin. “A couple of associates from Cavanaugh Industries.”
I frown at him. “Is the golden trio sitting with us?”
Amir rolls his eyes. “Emery, Quinton, and Damon have their own VIP table.”
I pout. “And they didn’t invite you? So sad.”
Gigi snorts.
Amir glowers at me. “There wasn’t enough room for everyone.”
“Right, totally,” I say cheekily. “Of course.”
Amir’s gaze hardens, and through whatever half sibling telepathy we possess, I know he’s tacitly telling me to cut it out. I mentally acquiesce to his request. Gigi will bust his balls enough for the both of us.
“So, Theo,” Amir begins. “Tell me, what made you want to become a G-man?”
I relax back into my seat and allow Theodore to take the spotlight.
He’s a natural when it comes to schmoozing.
Calm. Collected. Cool. So cool. Every word that slips off that skilled tongue draws Amir closer to platonic infatuation.
Amir is easy to impress. Yes, he may be a total snob sometimes, brought up surrounded by wealth and privilege, but at heart, he’s surprisingly down to earth.
For a billionaire, that is.
After several minutes stuck in traffic, we arrive at the iconic steps of The Met. Amir and Theo climb out of the limo, both offering a hand for me and Gigi to take. I loop my arm through Theo’s while Gigi ducks under Amir’s outstretched hand, snubbing him.
I rein in a snort.
Maybe Gigi was right. Maybe tonight will be fun.