Chapter Thirty-Nine
Thaddeus
I hit the rewind button for the millionth time and watched as Grant and Kiyah left their therapist’s office.
Kiyah stepped out in a seductive red summer dress with a plunging neckline and heels that accentuated her calves.
My vision tunneled as my mind did what it needed to protect my sanity and ignore how Grant pawed at her, and how she allowed it.
Rewind. Watch. Yearn. Ache.
Rewind. Watch. Yearn. Ache.
Repeat.
A cigar rested between my fingers, and I took slow, deliberate drags. The lit tip burned a soft, orange glow, and lazy smoke tendrils curled around my face. I slouched deeper into the leather chair and lazily scrolled through the video feed again.
Knocking interrupted my solitude.
“Leave me be.”
“I have an update you may want to be aware of.”
“It better be worth my time.”
Desi entered, appearing more morose than usual. I rolled my eyes and snuffed out the cigar.
“My condolences,” I offered.
The muscle in Desi’s jaw ticked at the mention of his brother’s passing.
“Thank you, sir,” he replied tightly.
“Sutton’s passing was 100% avoidable,” I said, still poking the bear.
“I agree, sir.”
“He would’ve still been with us today had he had better aim. You can’t underestimate the Baker women.”
“No, you can’t,” he replied with a challenging glare.
I understood what he was hinting at, but Kiyah was a woman who, despite being trained in hand-to-hand combat and firearms, had many weaknesses. Twelve of them, to be exact.
There were twelve weaknesses to exploit, and they were all alive… for now.
Kiyah wouldn’t come willingly—she’d fight me tooth and nail—but I was prepared.
I shot Desi a practiced smile before inquiring about the nature of his visit.
“Grant Baker has contacted Sentinel Security.”
I grinned, unable to hide my excitement. I spooked them enough to seek out protection, and what were the odds they’d reach out to my security company?
“Tell me more.”
“He inquired about bodyguard services for himself, Kiyah, and Baker Personal Injury however, it was Daisy who handled Sutton.
“Forged text messages between Kiyah and me. She may or may not express relationship doubts that might shed some light on future events.” Doubt flickered across Desi’s face. “Do you have something to say?”
He guiltily shifted his eyes to the floor before answering.
“No, sir.”
“Good. Let’s keep it that way. Get the hell out of my office.”
He left swiftly, and a minute later, I stood outside Kiyah’s bedroom door. My index finger traced the multiple locks on the door. There were four in total—impossible to pick—and would only open with a key and digital password.
I entered the soundproof bedroom and made a beeline for the window. My fingers curled around the bars blocking the window, and I gave them a good shake.
They didn’t budge.
I smiled triumphantly.
I moved to the nightstand and snatched the picture frame from its perch.
“It could’ve been so simple,” I murmured, staring at the photo of Kiyah smiling with Pete in her arms. “But you had to fuck it up and leave.” I kissed the photo and returned it to the stand. “No worries; we have the rest of our lives for you to make it up to me.”