Chapter 43 – thiago
Forty-Three
thiago
“Where’s your girl?”
Grey’s voice makes my shoulders stiffen.
I don’t like the way he says it. Maybe it’s because he once tried to hit on Remi and resorted to insults when she told him exactly where he could shove his ego.
Or maybe it’s because Grey has always wanted Elena’s approval more than he’s wanted oxygen.
The man is ambitious to a fault, desperate even, and lately I’ve started wondering how far he’d go to stay in her good graces.
What grabs my attention most is why he’d call Remi my girl in the first place. I’ve never spoken about her around Grey or confided in him about my personal life. I’ve gone out of my way to keep that separate from work.
Ryan is my first guess, not intentionally, of course. He’s just never met a boundary he didn’t accidentally bulldoze with good intentions. The man sees the best in everyone, even when common sense tells him not to, and believes those around him share his intentions.
In my experience, that’s a dangerous assumption.
“I’m here alone,” I say, not bothering to refute his claim.
I finally turn to look at Grey.
Like most of the men attending tonight, he’s wearing a black tuxedo. Mine isn’t much different, aside from the Batman mask and cape. Unlike the others, he wears a black balaclava stretched across the lower half of his face, with a white Punisher skull glaring from the fabric.
The choice feels exactly on brand.
“Well, that’s a shame.” He tugs his mask and takes a sip of his drink. “You finally feeling like yourself again? Over your little cold?”
I glance down at the whiskey in my hand and let out an unamused laugh. “Mostly.”
“Good.”
There’s no missing the tension between us, and his concern sounds just as hollow as we both know it is. In the field, we’re a team. We trust each other to do our jobs and keep everyone alive because that trust is non-negotiable.
Outside of work, things are different. Maybe it’s a personality clash, or maybe it’s because every conversation with Grey feels less like a conversation and more like a test. Whatever the reason, I’ve never trusted him enough to let my guard down, and lately, I trust him even less.
“Braga. Grey.” Elena slips between us and leans back against the bar as if she owns the place. Her dark hair is pinned into an elegant bun, and a crimson mask conceals the upper half of her face, matching the silk gown draped over her body.
Grey immediately straightens.
Before she can even ask, he’s already signaling the bartender for another drink.
“Cheers,” Elena says with a smile as she lifts the glass and taps it lightly against his.
Grey looks honored before Elena turns her attention to me.
“You’ve been so busy catching up and getting back into the groove that we’ve barely had time to chat.”
The smile on her face never wavers, and neither does the warning beneath it. I take a slow sip of my whiskey.
“As you know, work’s been busy.”
“I’m sure.”
I glance toward Grey and catch the way he watches Elena when she isn’t looking. The admiration is still there, along with the ambition I’ve seen a hundred times before, but there’s something else beneath it now, darker and almost possessive.
I’ve always assumed Grey’s fixation with Elena was entirely professional. But as I watch his gaze follow her, I start to wonder if I’ve been reading him wrong this entire time.
“Stop by my office on Monday,” she says to me. “We can catch up on your progress.”
I grit my teeth.
Every conversation with Elena leaves me aggravated and mentally drained.
I don’t respond, letting my gaze drift across the ballroom instead.
The event is in full swing. Officers, spouses, city officials, and donors fill the room as masks and costumes blend beneath crystal chandeliers. Laughter rises from nearby tables as servers weave through the crowd with trays of drinks and appetizers.
Everyone seems busy living lives that look simple and normal from the outside while I feel the walls closing in around me.
What I wouldn’t give to see Remi right now or hear her voice.
Despite how good things have been between us over the past couple of weeks, neither of us has mentioned the ball since our argument.
Part of me wanted to ask her, but I was too afraid of hearing no a second time.
And things were finally starting to feel right between us, and I didn’t want to risk ruining that by bringing it up.
So I let it go.
Now, standing in the middle of a ballroom full of people, I wish I’d taken the chance.
As if reading the direction of my thoughts, Elena clears her throat.
“Why didn’t you bring your friend from the other night? What was her name again?”
“Drop it,” I mutter.
But in true Elena fashion, she has no intention of doing any such thing.
“Ah, Remi, was it?” She swirls the drink in her hand. “Pretty girl, that one. She’s got fire in her eyes.”
I say nothing, and Elena nudges my shoulder.
“I’m sure she would’ve loved to attend.”
I turn to her. “She’s not coming.”
Elena suddenly goes still, and the glass stops halfway to her lips as her smile disappears. “I think she might have had a change of heart.”
A strange sensation moves through my chest. I follow her line of sight, and before my gaze reaches the ballroom entrance, every muscle in my body goes rigid with recognition.
The conversations around me fade into the background until the music, laughter, and clinking glasses grow distant.
I know it's her before I even lay eyes on her.
Then I look up, and there she is.
The breath leaves my lungs as I stare across the ballroom. She spots me almost immediately, and her red lips curve into a slow grin.
Remi walks through the entrance as if the room belongs to her, each step carrying the kind of confidence that makes people stop and stare.
My girl is dressed in a black leather catsuit that looks as if it were made for her. The material hugs every delicious curve and catches the light with each measured step she takes across the polished floor. A matching mask frames her eyes, and her hair falls in soft waves over one shoulder.
She looks powerful, untouchable, and absolutely breathtaking.
The room notices her beauty, but I notice the way her gaze never leaves mine.
Despite everything that happened when I asked her to come, Remi changed her mind and showed up for me.
I swallow hard and adjust my tie, suddenly feeling suffocated.
“Thiago,” she says when she reaches me.
“You came.” I pull her against my chest without caring that we’re surrounded by half the precinct. My arms close around her, and she rises onto the balls of her heeled boots to press a kiss to my cheek before leaning close enough for only me to hear.
“You owe me big for this, Braga.”
I laugh, pulling her closer, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume.
“Baby, I’ll give you whatever you want.” My hand rests against her hip. “You’re here, and I know it’s not something you’re fully comfortable with. I’d be an idiot not to appreciate it.”
A shiver runs through her, sending a rush of satisfaction through me.
When she pulls back, I take a second to really look at her. “Jesus, Remi.”
Her grin widens. “You like?”
I laugh under my breath. “Dangerous question.”
She grips my lapels. “And why is that?”
The answer sits right on the tip of my tongue. Because every man in this room is staring at her, she’s driving me out of my goddamn mind, and if I keep looking at her, I’m going to forget where we are.
Before I can say any of it, Elena appears beside us, casting a shadow over Remi, and the irony doesn’t escape me.
“It’s so nice to see you again...Riley.” Her fake smile never slips. “You sure do know how to make an entrance.”
I immediately step closer to Remi and position myself between them, but Remi isn’t having it. She plants her feet and steps forward.
“I’m sorry, have we met?” she asks pleasantly, though her eyes are anything but.
Elena pauses for half a beat. “Very briefly. But the way Braga has been sulking all night, I’m glad you decided to come after all.”
“Me too.” The words sound innocent enough, but the challenge beneath them is unmistakable. Remi reaches for my hand without looking away from Elena. “Thiago.”
“Yeah?”
She finally turns toward me. “Let’s get some air.” Her red lips curve into a smile. “It’s a little stuffy in here.”
Satisfaction flashes through me because Remi isn’t retreating from Elena. She’s taking me with her, and the way Elena looks at our joined hands tells me she knows it too.
“Lead the way.”
Without another word, I lace my fingers through hers and guide her toward the nearest exit, leaving Elena beside the bar. Grey remains several feet away, and I can practically feel his stare burning into my back as we leave.
“Some people lack survival instincts,” Remi says the moment the ballroom doors swing shut behind us.
“Mistake number one.” She stops at the bottom of a stairwell and turns to face me.
The leather of her catsuit creaks softly as she crosses her arms. “Question is, why is your boss provoking me? Is she into you or something?”
I bark out a laugh.
Then the humor leaves Remi’s face.
“Wait.” Her eyes narrow. “Do you two have some sort of past I should know about?”
“No! No, we don’t.” My answer comes out harsher than necessary, but the last thing I want is for Elena to occupy any space in Remi’s mind tonight.
“I don’t do well with people like her,” she adds. “And that won’t end well. Take that however you want.” She starts up the stairs before looking back over her shoulder. “I let the Riley shit slide for you. And a little because I was in a room full of cops.”
I can’t help smiling. “Very generous of you.”
“Don’t interrupt.”
I raise both hands in surrender as Remi continues climbing.
“But it won’t happen again.” Her tone leaves no room to question the warning. “I don’t tolerate disrespect.” She pauses on the next step. “Not even from your boss.”
I simply stare at her. Most people might find Remi intimidating, and I understand why. She refuses to bend for anyone, no matter who they are or how much power they hold, and I think it’s becoming one of my favorite things about her.
I take the next step and close the distance between us. “Good.”
Her eyebrow lifts. “Good?”
“Yeah. Because if Elena ever gives you a reason not to let it slide, I’m probably already having the same problem.”
That earns me a grin.
“Where are we going?” I ask as she tugs me along.
“There’s a terrace on the roof.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because there isn’t a building I’ll willingly step foot in without knowing its layout.”
“Should I be concerned?”
“Very.” She glances over her shoulder. “My mom taught me never to enter a room without knowing how I’m getting out of it.”
Of course she did.
I laugh and follow her up another flight of stairs. “You know that’s a little scary, right?”
“Good.”
“Was that the goal?”
“It’s always the goal, Braga.”
I shake my head. “Remind me never to get on your bad side. In fact, maybe this friendship is a bad idea.”
“Too late.”
“Why’s that?”
A mischievous smile spreads across her face. “Because I know you like me.”
She has no idea how right she is. Remi thinks she’s teasing, but I crossed that line a long time ago. Every day I spend with her makes me want more.
“Don’t look so smug,” I say.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
Sliding my hand around her, I pull her to my side. “Fuck, yes, you are.”