The Auction (Club Indulgence Duet, #1)(78)

Noah leaves, and my head spins.

Riggs only seems energized by the negotiations.

"You love this stuff, don't you?" I ask.

A boyish look appears on his handsome face. He questions, "Is it that obvious?"

"You're good at it. My father got lucky when he met you," I point out.

Riggs's face darkens.

"Sorry. Did I say something wrong?" I fret.

He shakes his head and tugs me into him. "No. You've done everything right."

Surprised, I reply, "I have?"

He strokes my cheek. "Yeah, pet. You have."

"Just in these meetings, right?" I blurt out, then my face heats.

Why did I say that?

He freezes, then slowly shakes his head. "No."

"No?"

He steps closer. "You've done everything right. And I'm not easy. I know I'm not easy, but you still managed to pull it off."

My butterflies go full force. Time seems to stand still. I open my mouth and then close it.

"Say whatever's on your mind, pet," he demands.

"What does that mean? I-I want you to clarify what that means so I'm not confused," I admit, then add, "about us. I don't want to keep being confused about us." My stomach dives so fast that I think I might get sick, but it's the question that's always on my mind.

He locks his blues on mine, his chest filling with air several times, his exhales steadied and controlled. He closes the small gap between us, tilting my chin up and studying me.

For the first time ever, I swear Riggs is nervous. It swirls all over him, and I'm sure he won't answer me.

But he does.

He lowers his voice, claiming, "It means I was wrong."

"About what?" I whisper, scared about what he will say.

"How I want to love you," he declares.

My emotions roll through me. I'm unable to escape the tears. I force myself to ask, "Meaning?"

"I need to do better."

I inhale sharply.

He presses his lips to mine, then vows, "I will do better."

"Why?" I ask.

He strokes my cheek, announcing, "Because you see me. And I don't want us to ever end."





24





Riggs

One Month Later





Jones is a genius. He's siphoning money from Hugh's accounts at record speed. His system truly does seem unhackable. But as he stated earlier, he makes sure that he upgrades it daily to keep it that way.

The banks informed Hugh he can no longer keep his accounts with them. I know because Jones gave me the email documentation of Hugh going back and forth. The banks have had to replace his money too many times, and slowly, over the last month, they've all fired him as a client. They paid him out in cash, cutting their losses.

He's their only client that's been hacked like this, and since he's a target, they can't take the risk anymore. Hugh's level of arrogance is just as high as ever, except now there's rage involved. And the emails back and forth, well, let's just say they haven't been the nicest.

All my plans are coming to fruition better than I could have estimated. My patience has paid off, and it's time for the next step.

I know Hugh put his cash inside the safe at the office. I had a camera installed in the lights, and Hugh has no idea I'm watching his every move.

Thankfully, I observed him over the years, learning how he operates. I'm aware he doesn't trust his wife, so he wouldn't leave money at home. And he's underestimated me. He still thinks I'm clueless and loyal to him.

I called Jones yesterday and told him he needed to hack into my security system at work. I want him to loop the recording so it looks like the room's empty. I also need him to delete my keycard entrance so there's no proof when I empty Hugh's safe.

My moment is now. It's dark, and everyone's gone, including the janitors. I make my way into the building through the fire exit, bypassing the security guards at the front desk. Then I text Jones.

Me: I'm in.





Jones: Two more minutes.





I wait in the corridor and then receive another text.

Jones: You're clear.





Adrenaline pumps through my veins. I climb the forty-five flights, hauling with me two empty suitcases until I get to the top floor. Then I go directly into Hugh's office suite.

Since Hugh's now paranoid, he often opens his safe and stares at his money. It only took a few days before the camera captured the code, since he's old school. He laughed when I told him years ago he should switch to an electronic safe that requires a handprint.

I push my gloved fingers against the buttons, and the safe opens. I take all the cash, a set of collector Rolex watches, and his passport. I open a folder and freeze.

My pet's picture stares at me. She's younger, and the issue date states it was around her eighteenth birthday. I add it to the case, then pick up two large yellow envelopes.

I open the first one, then thumb through the documents.

It's a trail of all the money he's stolen from our client accounts and me. I've seen it before when Jones gave me his report. I toss it in with the other items. Then I open the second envelope.