Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Evelyn
"You look beautiful tonight, Evelyn." Julian wrapped his arms around me from behind, hands roaming up my waist with zero subtlety. He wanted to skip straight to the main event.
I pulled my gaze from his room and spun around before his burning lips could reach my neck, pressing my palm against his chest to create some distance.
"Not so fast, Julian." I softened my voice deliberately, tracing circles on his shirt button with my fingertip. "I like a slow build. It's been forever since we've been alone like this. I'm actually kind of nervous. Can we have a drink first? Help me relax?"
Julian raised an eyebrow, clearly into the little game. He smacked my ass once before turning toward the fancy walnut liquor cabinet in the corner.
"What's your poison?"
"Whiskey. On the rocks." I watched his back.
While he poured with his back turned, I slipped the heavy-duty sleeping pill from my purse and palmed it. When he came back with two crystal tumblers, I took one naturally. As our fingers touched, the pill dropped silently into the amber liquid and dissolved instantly.
"To tonight." Julian raised his glass, desire naked in his eyes.
"Absolutely." I smiled back.
I watched coldly as his Adam's apple bobbed, the drugged whiskey sliding down his throat.
He tossed the empty glass onto the coffee table and lunged at me. Those eyes that had been reasonably clear moments ago were already glazing over, flooding with raw, unfiltered lust.
"Alright." His breathing turned heavy. "God, you have no idea how long I've wanted this."
"Baby, me too." I hooked his tie and pulled him toward me. Julian lost all patience, exactly as I'd planned.
He grabbed me, his alcohol-soaked lips attacking my neck with zero finesse.
"Evelyn, you smell so fucking good," he mumbled incoherently, mouth working clumsily across my skin.
But soon he shook his head, letting out a confused grunt. His movements froze mid-air.
"Shit, did I drink too much tonight?"
No shit. That black-market special could drop a full-grown elephant.
"Damn, something's not right."
Julian tried to stand, but the second he pushed himself up, his heavy body crashed back into the sofa cushions. His breathing quickly turned deep and steady. He was out cold.
I stood calmly, peeling his fingers off my waist one by one with disgust. Then I walked straight to the door without hesitation.
Minutes later, I was back in front of that heavy oak door. Even after catching me sneaking in last time, it still wasn't locked. What an arrogant bastard.
I turned the handle and slipped inside. First thing I saw was that massive desk lit by moonlight.
Dammit.
My brain auto-played what happened in this study last time. It shouldn't count as a good memory, but the pleasure of Victor inside me made it impossible to lie to myself.
I squeezed my eyes shut hard and pinched the inside of my thigh.
Get your head straight, Evelyn. You're here to find out what happened to your father, not to reminisce about getting fucked by a mafia boss.
I bit down hard and pulled out my mini flashlight.
This time, I came prepared.
I crouched down, the flashlight beam hitting the side of the desk. I started working through the methods Richard had taught me. Finally, when my fingers traced along the wood grain and found an almost invisible seam, I dug my nail in and pushed gently. A hidden compartment popped open.
Inside lay an old brass key.
Nice work, Evelyn. I celebrated silently. Tonight I'd definitely find something.
I grabbed the key and went straight for the safe in the storage cabinet. I stuck the key in, held my breath, and twisted hard.
Click. The safe door popped open.
My heart nearly jumped out of my throat.
This is it. What I've been searching for.
I reached in eagerly, fingers searching in the dark. I expected thick file folders, document envelopes, maybe a USB drive. Something holding Victor's dirty secrets.
But no. The safe was nearly empty.
My fingers touched only one thing. Thin, with the texture of photo paper. I pulled it out and aimed the flashlight at it.
The moment I saw it clearly, my blood turned to ice.
A photograph.
The girl in it had a young face but a body that had already developed curves. She wore an extremely revealing black lace lingerie set, posing for the camera with a sexy expression, lips curved in a clumsy, innocent attempt at seduction.
It was me.
Eighteen-year-old me.
My hands started shaking, the flashlight beam bouncing wildly across the photo.
I remembered this picture perfectly. I took it on my eighteenth birthday after Lily and I killed half a bottle of vodka.
Lily said every girl should have a sexy photoshoot when she's young and hot, something to look back on when she's old.
At the time, that made total sense to me.
But once I sobered up, I regretted it. I deleted every digital copy completely. I kept only this one physical print, locked in the combination box under my apartment bed. I never showed this photo to anyone, never uploaded it anywhere. I even told Lily I threw it away when she asked later.
It should be in my apartment. Under my bed.
Not lying in Victor Moretti's safe.
Terror swept through me like wildfire. My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the floor in front of the storage cabinet. The flashlight slipped from my hand and rolled under the desk, but I couldn't bring myself to retrieve it. My whole body was shaking.
With trembling fingers, I flipped the photo over. On the back was a line of text, handwritten, the script sharp and confident.
"To my dear Evelyn, welcome back."
I wanted to scream but only managed a gasp.
Stay calm, Evelyn. Remember what your father taught you. I tried to quiet the chaos swirling in my head and work through it logically.
Victor had been to my private apartment. He'd taken my intimate photo. Then he came back to the manor and placed this picture neatly in the highest-security safe in his study.
He did it on purpose.
He'd been sitting here quietly, waiting for me to walk into his trap.
My supposedly foolproof infiltration plan. The carefully designed cover story, the pathetic act of playing the lovesick admirer to test his boundaries. All of it was a ridiculous joke. He never believed me. He always knew I was lying.
Pure panic made my teeth chatter uncontrollably. My mind raced through countless terrifying possibilities.
I'd dared to break in tonight because I'd personally verified the private flight approval documents to Europe this morning. Everything indicated he should be on a plane to Milan right now.
But if this was all a trap to lure me in, then his Europe business trip was probably a lie, too.
My entire body went rigid, all color draining from my face.
So where was he now?