“Exactly,” January says. “Now let’s see if I’ve managed to make something that can stop him.”
“You did.”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she opens a new command window, the one that controls Ultra. A few lines of code to tell it to go to work, and then she hits the Enter key again.
Her shoulders are rigid with tension, so I knead some of it out as we wait. The feed from the phone camera remains crisp and clear.
Come on, I tell her program. Do your damn job.
It doesn’t listen.
January sighs, the sound filled with infinite sadness and defeat.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I can’t say if I’m more disappointed for her or for missing the chance to nail Fuchs’s balls to the wall.
And then the camera feed splinters. It goes clear again, briefly, and then it’s nothing but white noise.
January snaps into action, calling up the window that controls the spyware program. It’s still running, still trying to pull images off the camera’s phone… but it can’t decode what it’s getting anymore. Ultra has encrypted the data.
“You did it.” Elation fills me. “January, this is—”
She shakes her head. “It’s encrypting fine, but I need to make sure I can decode it. Nobody wants their pictures turned into white noise permanently.”
She calls up the Ultra command window and routes the encrypted images into it, telling Ultra to unscramble them.
This time the program doesn’t tease us with more sputters and white noise. The second January hits Enter, the video feed is there, crisp and bright as if we were looking on the phone screen itself.
“You’re amazing.” I press another kiss to her hair. “Completely and totally amazing.”
She sags under my hands as if she can’t quite believe what’s happened. “It worked. I mean, it’s only the first test—”
I spin her chair around and crouch before her. “No. We can take this to Pixio right now. This is more than enough to convince them.”
Her brow furrows. “Are you sure?”
“Trust me.” I slip my hands into hers and hold tight. “I’ll do the selling. You just bring the hardware.”
For a moment the uncertainty holds on to her. She doesn’t want to believe. But then everything about her goes light, as if I’ve taken a weight from her.
“Okay. You’re in charge of the deal making then. I trust you.”
I feel that in every inch of myself. This project is everything to her. She’s got everything riding on this.
And she trusts me with it.
“I love you.” I hadn’t meant to say that, but it feels like the only right thing to say here.
Her expression freezes. She’s stunned, and I can’t tell if it’s in a good way. My heart freezes too.
I’m vulnerable all over again with her, worse than I was in college though, because this isn’t a crush.
It’s love.
I can have anything in the world I want, but all I want is her to love me in return.
January swallows, slow and deliberate. “You… you love me?” Then she pulls her hands from mine and covers her face.
My entire body sinks. It’s happening all over again. I’d thought…
She takes a shuddering breath, then another. “I never believed…” Her hands drop, and the light shining from her eyes gives me hope. “I love you too.”
I never thought I could feel this much. There’s nothing in my life to compare to the sensations flooding through me. I stand up, pull her out of the chair and into my arms.
“I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted,” I promise her. “The entire world. You just have to ask.”
She laughs into my chest. “How about your heart? Can I have that?”
“It was always yours.” It’s true; she’s been carrying it since college, and I’ve only just realized it. “But I’d like to make a deal. Can I have yours in return?”
January lifts her face to mine. “Done,” she says, right before we seal our bargain with a kiss.
Chapter 24
I can’t sleep.
After the night I’ve had with Mark, I should be dead to the world like he is. And I’m definitely tired, my muscles pleasantly sore from all the orgasms, but my mind is also reeling from everything that’s happened.
My program works.
And Mark loves me.
I’ve been staring into the dark for what seems like hours, Mark’s arm thrown over my waist, as I repeat those two facts over and over. They both seem unreal. And wonderful.
Mark shifts next to me, pressing his face into my shoulder, his arm tightening around me. He makes a noise of mumbled pleasure, like he’s happy to have found me even in his sleep.
I gently kiss his forehead. “I’ll be back,” I whisper, then slip out of the bed.
He mutters darkly, his arm searching again, but then he stills. I can’t help but push back his hair, so thick and dark. When he’s asleep like this, his chest bare, his power isn’t from his wealth or all the trappings of it—it’s all him.
But I should let him sleep and take advantage of my insomnia. No matter what Mark thinks, there’re still some bugs that have to be worked out.
I settle into my chair in the office space, the château deeply quiet around me. The whir of my laptop fan is almost too loud.
I stretch and yawn, trying to find a comfortable position. I’m tempted to head back to bed, but I know I’ll only stare at nothing for several hours more. And there’s still work to do.
So I call up my code and pull out the list of bugs I need to deal with. It’s tedious, mind-numbing work, perfect for a night when I can’t sleep.
When my new phone pings, I’m more than ready for a distraction. I loaded my secure messaging app on the new phone before we left, just in case Grace contacted me. When I see the little red notification in the messenger app, my smile is so wide it hurts.
If she can message me, she must be okay. My rejection of Fuchs’s offer didn’t put her in jeopardy, thank God.
When I open the message, I go so cold I start to shiver. All the way down to my bones.
You should have taken the offer, Miss Harris.
He’s found us both out. The only way he could send this message is if he has Grace’s phone. Which means he knows she sent me the documents.
Oh fuck. My heart drums out a steadily increasing beat of panic. What have you done to Grace? I type.
I can feel the sneer in his reply: Your co-conspirator is perfectly safe. I don’t indulge in physical violence.
He’s said she’s safe, but I’m even more frightened now. Thick in that is the implication that Grace may not be safe for long and that while he doesn’t do physical violence, there’s an entire host of other tortures he could use.
If he knows what Grace and I have done, why hasn’t he told the authorities? Or at least fired her?
What do you want from me? I ask baldly. I’m too panicked to dance around the issue with him.
He doesn’t answer, at least not with words. Instead, picture after picture comes through, all of them blurred, like they were captured while someone was running with their phone. But I can see a picture on a wall, a chair by a table, and a dog’s tail. Enough to recognize what he’s sending me.
Fuchs has activated his spyware on one of my parents’ phones, sending me images of my childhood home. Reminding me that everyone I love is vulnerable to him.
I’m actively shivering now, my body trying to shake off all this fear. This is worse than if he’d remotely activated my phone, because my parents never did anything to him. Grace and I are the ones fighting him; we should be the only ones in danger.
You have my attention, I reply. For half a moment I consider waking up Mark and letting him take over. He’s on my side. I can trust him. He can fight with me.
I push up from the desk chair, my laptop open on the desk. The bubble shows that Fuchs is typing now, but I don’t want to see his reply. Except it com
es through before I can shut the computer.
Good. If you’d like to finish this without any more fuss—or without endangering your associate’s position—please meet me at Corvus tomorrow at five. And I wouldn’t tell Mr. Taylor about this.
That’s not all Fuchs has sent. There’s a video too.
If the photos left me cold, this video leaves me sick. Vilely, wrenchingly ill.
The scene is a bedroom, filmed in gauzy, low light. There’s no unsettling night vision setting here—I can see everything fairly clearly. A woman walks into the frame, looking wrenchingly young. She can’t be more than twenty. Something about her is familiar… maybe it’s her hairstyle. It’s hard to tell because she won’t face the camera—and she’s naked.
A man enters then, also naked. He’s familiar too. Much too much familiar, although he hasn’t faced the camera yet either. But I know that body, the way he carries himself through space.
My heart races as I pray that it’s not true. That it’s not him.
But when he turns to face the camera, the Mark I knew in college stares back at me, shattering all my hopes.
I want to stop watching, but I know this is no ordinary sex tape. The sticking point isn’t that Mark has been with other women—I already knew that. No, I’m supposed to see exactly which woman he’s with. That’s the part that’s meant to hurt me.
The woman is kissing Mark now, her hand clasping his nape. There’s no sound—thank God—but her posture is loose as she leans into him. She wants him, wants to be in that moment with him. He’s kissing her back but without as much enthusiasm. I think. The light is enough to identify them but not enough to read the finer details of their expressions.
Again the familiarity of the woman catches at me. I know her. I’m sure of it.
In a sickening rush, I realize who it might be. The one person who would be the worst betrayal.
No. No, Mark wouldn’t have done that. Not to her, and he wouldn’t have lied to me. He told me he loved me.
When the woman finally turns to the camera, a pleasure-soaked smile on her face, I already know who it is. But my heart still shatters.
Chloe’s as young and innocent as Mark is. She has no idea how her life is about to blow up thanks to some pictures like these. She pulls him down to the bed, her mouth open on a laugh.
The video ends there. There’s more, I’m sure, but perhaps he’ll deploy the rest if I remain stubborn.
I have no idea how he got this, but it’s clear he’s done his research. Only someone who’s dug deep into my past and Mark’s would have found out about Chloe. And Fuchs must have dug deep enough to find this.
The text bubble on his end pops up—apparently he’s got more to say.
If you refuse my buyout offer, this video goes to every major newspaper tomorrow, along with TidBytes. How long before it hits over a million views, do you think?
Under an hour, I’d guess. Mark will be instantly recognizable, which will fuel the spread of the video. And within a day or so, they’ll identify Chloe too. The horrible stuff that happened to her at Stanford will be dragged out again, along with the revenge porn her ex put out on the internet. Revenge porn that Mark himself might have passed around, commented on. Mark can weather something like a sex tape perfectly fine, but this will tear Chloe’s life apart. Again.
Fuchs is still there, waiting for me to respond to this. Knowing that he’s dealt me a killing blow.
With shaking hands, I type out, You’ve made your point. I’ll be there.
I’ll be waiting. He disconnects then, having won everything he could have ever wanted.
I gather up my laptop, my messenger bag, and my phone. I leave behind everything else Mark’s bought me—the electronics, the clothes, the jewelry.
And I leave him still asleep.
I’d say that I never looked back, but that would be a lie. Even after everything I’ve seen, I still look back.
Chapter 25
When I wake up, I immediately know something is wrong.
January isn’t here. The bed is cold, which means she hasn’t been here for a while.
She’s woken up before in the middle of the night, but she’s always come back to bed at some point. I’ve woken up with her for a week.
But she’s not here now.
I walk through the house toward the office, looking for her. This feeling of mine is irrational—she has to be here. She wouldn’t leave without telling me. And where would she go?
When I get to the office, adrenaline spikes through my veins.
Arranged carefully on her desk are the phone, earrings, and tennis bracelet I got her. She hasn’t taken the jewelry off since I gave it to her, not even in the shower.
Her laptop is gone though. And the room feels… cold, in a way it never did before.
There’s a message here, and when the full impact of it hits me, I stop breathing.
She’s rejected me. Again.
My fist opens and closes, the rest of me utterly paralyzed. I’m hollowed out, empty. I gave her everything of me… and she rejected it.
I don’t understand. Not why she left or how I can hurt like I’ve been hit by a semi. I can’t even get angry at her disappearance.
There’s just… nothing inside.
I somehow make my way around her desk, falling into her chair. She’d sit here, right across from me, typing away on her battered laptop. And now there’s nothing left but the gifts I gave her.
The earrings are cold and hard when I pick them up, not even a hint of her body heat remaining. The stones are dull in the low light from the hallway. They would gleam brightly enough to make me blink when they were in her ears.
I love you.
She said that just tonight. And then she just… fucking left me.
My fist smashes into the desk. Some part of my brain flinches at the pain and noise.
That flinch becomes a crack. And then a fissure, and suddenly I realize how dumb I’m being.
When she rejected me before, January did it right to my face. Yeah, I was hurt and pissed at the time, but she didn’t ghost me or anything.
And she’s kept secrets from me but only to protect her friend. Which means…
I raise my head and stare into the darkness. “Fucking Fuchs. He did this.”
She was frightened when she first came to me. And she’s frightened now. He did something to make her bolt without a word.
The adrenaline jumping through me turns to ice. He must have threatened her. Kidnapped her. He wants her company, and a man like Fuchs doesn’t take no for an answer.
He’s about to find out a man like me isn’t going to let him get away with this. A man like me is going to do everything and anything to find the woman he loves, then utterly ruin the asshole who dared to take her.
I tear outside and jump into the Tesla. Before the car door fully shuts, I’m gunning it down the driveway, rocketing toward the City, praying I make it in time.
Finn is the one to catch me as I careen into Bastard Capital.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Finn clotheslines me as I try to barrel past him toward my office. I’d never let the Tesla drop below a hundred as I raced back to the City and on to Sand Hill Road.
January was gone, all her things left behind. Every second counted now that Fuchs had grabbed her.
“Let go,” I snarl. “He’s got her, and I have to get her back. And then smash that fucker into a million pieces.”
I take a breath and size up Finn. I’m not a small dude, but he’s got a few inches and several pounds of muscle on me. Like, boxer-type muscle, which is good in a fight. “You’re coming with me. I might need backup.”
Finn’s arm tightens around me, squeezing hard on my windpipe. “Dude, you need to chill the fuck out. I’ve got your back any day of the week, but I have no fucking clue what’s going on.”
Like I’ve got the time to explain. “Fuchs has January. I’m getting her back.”
“Is he here?” Logan roars from his offi
ce. “Because Mark needs to explain some shit fast.”
When he barrels into the hallway, Anjie is close on his heels, looking worried. “Mark?” she asks in a quavering voice.
Jesus. I was holding it together, but the fear in Anjie’s voice cracks my shell of anger, letting my own fear seep out.
“I’ll make sure she’s fine,” I promise Anjie. “I’ll save her.”
“What the hell is going on with Ultra?” Logan’s put his hands on his hips. “I thought we weren’t selling to Fuchs.”
“What?”
“It’s in TidBytes today,” Finn explains, relaxing his grip on me. “A big story about how Ultra is being sold to Corvus.” He drops his voice. “Along with some pictures of Callie with Julian.”
That explains Logan’s mood, but I don’t have time to deal with it. Logan knows the woman he loves is safe, if not in his arms. Whereas January could be anywhere. Fuchs might have done anything to her.
“Why the hell would TidBytes have the announcement?” I ask. “It’s only a gossip blog.”
Anjie shrugs. “We were hoping you could explain.”
“We had her system working. It was a great test, and I told her we were ready to take it to Pixio… and…”
Logan’s expression falls. “Oh shit. What happened?”
“She was just gone the next morning. Didn’t take anything except her laptop and her phone. I’ve called her phone, her house, her office, even her parents—nobody knows where she is. Somehow Fuchs must have gotten to her. Or kidnapped her. That’s why the sale announcement is already out.”
Finn pushes me toward the conference room. “Anjie, can you make some coffee and call in everyone else? We’ve got some planning to do.”
By the time everyone assembles in the conference room, Anjie included, I’m worked up to a fever pitch again, pacing like a caged wolf.
“We’re wasting too much time,” I say, punching my fist into my palm. “He’s got her, and we have to rescue her. There’s no other explanation.”
Dev raises an eyebrow. “Really? How are you going to rescue her?”
“Storm Corvus’s offices.”
Secret Acquisitions Page 16
