Chapter 19
NICK
Something feels off.
Maybe it’s just because of the timing—I’ve never had an unexpected guest aside from Thomas since I moved here, and he knows not to come calling tonight.
I’m not usually a suspicious man, but the closer I step to my front door, the more my gut tightens with the insistent certainty that something is wrong.
I pause at the little storage table in my entryway, silently reaching beneath it to pull free the gun I keep there in case of emergency.
Normally, I wouldn’t be so concerned, but I have something to protect tonight. Riley is here, and if trouble has somehow decided to find me, I’m not going to let her get hurt. I’d rather her see me as a monster than have a single scratch on her skin.
I check the chamber to ensure a round gleams there before creeping closer to the door on silent feet.
Pulling up the security feed of the hallway, I’m met with… nothing.
There’s no one standing on my doorstep, no ghost of my past looming in the shadows. I lean into the peephole just to confirm it with my own eyes, but my doorway is empty. Tucking the gun into the waistband of my pants and hiding the bulge of it with my untucked shirt, I slowly pull the door open.
The only thing out of place is a manila envelope lying innocuously on my welcome mat.
Is this some sort of trick? A weird ding-dong ditch scenario? Did the building staff find some of my mail that had been misplaced and decide to bring it up?
“Nick?” Riley asks. “You’ve been out there a while, is everything okay?”
I jolt at the sound of her voice, scolding myself for letting my mind run so rampant that I didn’t even hear her coming.
“Yeah,” I say, shaking off the weird feeling in my gut as I bend down to pick up the envelope with one last glance down the hall. “I was just trying to remember if I was expecting anything.”
Riley closes the distance between us as I pull the door shut, triple checking that it’s locked before I look down at the envelope. There’s no writing on it, no indication of who it’s from or even who it’s to.
“A delivery?” Riley asks, tilting her head curiously.
I hum uncertainly, tipping the envelope side to side, feeling the contents slide around. “Apparently. Come on, let’s go sit, Princess. No need to let this interrupt us.”
Riley smiles as I place one hand on her hip, turning her around. She lets me steer her into the living room without any resistance, making happy little noises in her throat as I sit her down on the couch, taking a seat beside her.
“Want to watch something?” I ask, tossing the envelope onto the coffee table to be dealt with later. “Or pretend to?”
I grin as I tuck her under my arm, pulling her close, fingers tracing the curve of her hip teasingly. She laughs, swatting my hand away playfully as her pretty hazel eyes stray back to the envelope.
“Aren’t you going to open it?” she asks.
“It can wait. I’d rather spend my time with you.”
“What if it’s important?” she replies, giving me a pointed glance. “There’s no writing on it. Don’t you want to know who it’s from?”
It’s funny how quickly I’ve gotten comfortable with her in my space, hell, in my life. If anyone else, even Thomas, had asked to open my mail with me, I’d have told them in no uncertain terms to get fucked.
All it takes from Riley is a quick bat of her lashes and she has my cold heart melting.
“Nosy brat,” I say fondly as I reach for the envelope.
She laughs at the half-assed scolding, leaning forward along with me as I tear the envelope open. I don’t bother glancing inside before I tip it upside down and let the contents fall free over the coffee table.
But I regret it as soon as I process what I’m seeing.
Pictures.
Glossy, freshly printed pictures.
Of us. Of me. Of her.
My heart skips a beat at the soft, shocked gasp that falls from her lips. She reaches out with a shaking hand, but I snag her wrist back before she can touch any of them.
“No. Don’t put your fingerprints on them.”
She whips her head to the side to look up at me, her eyes wide with fear.
“What?” Her voice trembles as her eyes dart frantically between the photos and my face. “Nick, what’s going on? These… this is us.”
“I know,” I reply, dark and displeased.
The photos aren’t particularly scandalous on their own.
The ones of Riley alone are mostly from work or her lunch breaks with Taylor.
Even the ones of Riley and me together at work are fairly tame.
We’ve been careful to keep our trysts at work away from even the hallway cameras, so all that’s been captured are a few shared smiles and one of me patting her on the shoulder.
The ones of me are more of a problem. They showcase Thomas and me together outside of The Echelon, and, more importantly, me in a mask at various events over the years. Those pictures should be impossible because I know how seriously Thomas takes the no-cameras policy inside the club.
They look like they were taken stealthily, shaky images from beneath tables and around corners. There’s no denying they are of me, though.
It’s the pictures of Riley and me from inside the club that make me sick to my stomach, though.
They’re from the night of the auction.
A night that should be an untainted, pure memory for both of us, now sullied by whoever the fuck decided to do this.
None of them are from the back rooms, thankfully, but the story they tell is obvious anyway.
Shots of Riley on stage are followed by pictures of me walking through the crowd as I placed my bids, a photo of her sitting in my lap, and then one of us disappearing around the corner into the back.
We’re both masked in all of them, but it’s not hard to recognize either of us if you know who you’re looking at.
The sight of them alone is enough to make my blood boil with rage, but the fact that they were ripped straight from the security footage leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
“Who did this?” Riley whispers, utterly horrified as she digs her nails into my arm. “What—was it your friend? Tommy? That’s security footage!”
I shake my head slowly, grinding my teeth in an attempt to quell my anger before I open my mouth.
“It wasn’t Tommy,” I say roughly. “Someone must have hacked his cameras. He’s not sloppy enough to be that obvious.”
Riley splutters, pushing up from the couch to pace anxiously around the room, crossing her arms over her waist.
“What is that supposed to mean?” she bites out.
I hide my wince behind a frown—Thomas walks a much darker path than I do, his lifestyle closer to what my brother would like me to engage in than that of a true businessman like he presents to the world. That’s not something Riley needs to know, nor something for her to worry about right now.
“It wasn’t Tommy,” I repeat, fixing my eyes on her as she paces back and forth. “I trust him.”
I can count the number of people I trust on one hand, and Thomas has been one of them for a long time. He wouldn’t do this. Not to me.
“Then what’s happening?” she snaps, whirling on her heel to stare me down. “What is going on, Nick?”
I look grimly between her and the photos laid out on the table before shaking my head.
There’s no note with the photos, but they’re enough of a threat on their own.
Someone knows about our relationship, and they have far more details than I’m comfortable with.
Whatever they want out of this, they’re obviously willing to play the long game by not making any demands.
They must not know that I’m not a patient man by any means, and certainly not when Riley is involved.
“I don’t know,” I admit, gritting my teeth. “I need to make a few calls.”
My lawyer. The friends I have down at the station. Thomas.
My brother.
Goddamnit.
“That’s not an answer!” she presses, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Who would do this? Why would anyone do this? What’s even the point?”
Riley looks utterly terrified, glancing at the photos every few seconds and then flinching away. I push off the couch and close the distance between us, pulling her stiff form into my arms as I rub soothing circles over her back.
“Let me handle this, Riley.” My voice comes out more demanding than comforting, but I’ve never been good at being soft. “I’ll figure it all out. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She shivers before melting forward against me and taking a slow, deep breath.
“Okay,” she whispers, sounding somewhere between scared and exhausted. “Okay.”
I don’t praise her, nor do I thank her for trusting me.
Neither feels like the right move. Instead, I just lead her to my home office, sitting her down on the well-worn leather armchair in the corner of the room.
After flicking on the lamp behind the chair, I wind my fingers into her hair, tugging until she gazes up at me.
“I’m going to take care of this,” I promise. “I’m going to take care of you.”
She nods, pulling the soft red blanket nearby over her lap as she lets out a small huff. She might be agreeing, but I can see the hesitation in her eyes. Her mind practically turning over it all.
Pulling my hand free of her hair, I make my way over to my desk.
I have a spare phone stashed away with my brother’s emergency contact—exclusively for when shit hits the fan and I need something done quickly and quietly.
I’m going to owe him one hell of a favor after this, but it’s going to be worth it.
The thought of anyone other than me watching Riley has my knuckles itching for blood.
I’m going to do whatever it takes to make sure I’m the only one who has access to her like that.
I’m the only one who deserves it.
Just as my fingers brush the phone I keep in the hidden drawer of my desk, another knock sounds at my door.
Riley jumps up from the armchair, eyes blown wide in fear. I make quick work of rounding the desk to place myself between her and the office door. Another knock echoes down the hall.
“Stay here,” I demand. “Sit and don’t move until I tell you it’s safe.”