The detective wanders over to the patio door and plays with the lock, then walks outside to the patio, asking an officer to lock and shut the door behind him. He turns the handle and pushes on it, shaking his head. He then puts his shoulder into it, and it moves enough to break the contact of the alarm. Lenning signals one of his officers, and they open the door so he can come back in.
“That’s a steel door with a double-paned window. But he could’ve pushed again, and it most likely would’ve given. Then he’d been in.”
He walks back outside, and we watch him while he looks around the patio, leaning over the edge and walking around the building. After five minutes of checking every inch of the patio, he returns to us, looking at Todd. “Is there another way onto your patio?”
“Not that I’m aware of. I was told if the building needed roof work done, they’d need access to my apartment.”
“What are you supposed to do if there’s a fire?”
“Go out the back door to the kitchen.” He points to the door he’s referring to.
“Is that up to code?”
Todd gives him a blank look and shrugs. “I didn’t build this place, and when I purchased it a few months ago, the inspection didn’t tell me otherwise.”
He studies Todd as if to evaluate whether or not he’s lying. “What do you do, Mr. Welton?”
“It’s Wellington,” he corrects. “I’m an investment banker with Morgan Wealth Management.”
He scribbles in his notebook. “And you, Miss Hathaway? What do you do?”
“I work in business development for a venture capital firm called Sullivan Healy Newhouse.”
“Why do these guys care about you?” He scratches his chin, as if in thought, and I’m not sure if he’s asking a real question or a rhetorical one.
I look over at Agent Baron to get permission to tell them, and he nods. “I worked for BrightStar Investments, and I was a whistleblower when I found out that our largest investor was a puppet for the Russian government. The FBI closed them down almost a year ago from the information I provided.”
Agent Baron interjects, “We can’t be sure it’s the Russian government. The largest investor is linked to the Russian mafia and is former KGB.”
The detective gives Agent Baron a look of disdain that tells me he doesn’t like the agent very much. Turning his penetrating gaze on me, he asks, “How did these guys know you were a whistleblower? Isn’t that usually secret?”
“That’s what we thought, but then there was a huge exposé in Friday’s Chronicle about BrightStar, and now we’re prisoners in our home,” Todd grumbles.
Okay, first he calls me his girlfriend, and now he’s calling it our home. He’s telling other people before he’s telling me. This is a little backward.
“Miss Hathaway, you actually own a condo downstairs on the fifth floor, don’t you?” the detective continues.
“Yes, it’s where the security detail stays while I’m here.”
“And how long have you and Mr. Wellington been involved?”
I look at Todd, then proceed to tell Detective Lenning how we met and were reacquainted. He interviews us for over an hour, until well after four o’clock in the morning.
“I’m exhausted,” I tell him finally, “and we’ve had a long week.”
“I understand. Only a few more questions.” Looking at Agent Baron, he asks, “There were three more alarms that went off. Can we please go to them?”
He nods, and we follow him to the elevator, heading to the parking garage and surrounding my car. I can see where they pulled the cover off the car, and there’s red paint splashed all cross the finish, next to a crudely painted “your final warning” on the hood.
A strangled noise escapes from me, and I cover my mouth, trying to rein it in.
Detective Lenning looks at me and asks, “Is this your car?”
Todd answers for me as I begin to involuntarily shake. “Yes, it’s hers.”
“And the alarm went off two more times?”
Agent Baron glares at the detective, then leads us to the side entrance where the fire escape comes out. “This was kicked in, but we have cameras installed. They didn’t come upstairs.”
Detective Lenning hands Todd a large envelope, and he pulls out several photos, all of me: the two of us in front of our building, a picture with Marci and me that was taken the day of my deposition while we went to lunch, a photo of me sitting at my desk at work. I can tell it was taken from the outside, given my back is to the picture as I face the door to my office, but it shows I’m vulnerable.
Todd holds the envelope so tight his knuckles are white. “Where did these come from?”
“They were left on her car window,” Lenning says.
In a small, quiet voice, I ask, “Now what?”
Chapter TWENTY-SIX
Cynthia
Detective Lenning, Agent Woods, and Jim all work together on the case. We all agree the harassment was designed to get me to back off my statements. For some reason, these people are obsessed with me, although I don’t know much. I wish I knew how to reach out to this Dimitri Kuznetsov. I feel like if I could talk to him and tell him what little I do know, he’ll leave me be.
“I understand your frustration, Cynthia, but you need to understand that Kuznetsov views you as the person who started this ball rolling. It doesn’t matter what you say,” Agent Wood contends.
My heart sinks as it dawns on me why Kuznetsov’s so angry with me. It isn’t that I know anything, it’s that I said something.
I’m going to do what they suggest. I want to stay within the bounds so that not only do I not get hurt, but neither does anyone around me.
They change the doorframe around the patio door at Todd’s and reinforce it.
“Mason says the windows in your offices were built with three layers of two-inch glass, and I’ve convinced them to add a polycarbonate to the interior glass from the inside, making it bulletproof.” I must have a pained look, because Jim assures me, “I’ve been trying to convince SHN of that for some time.”
We set a firm schedule of when I leave in the morning and at night. If something needs to change, I can alert my team, but going to client sites is out of the question for now. We can meet at any of the partners’ homes, the Arnaults’, and the beach house in Stinson. It’s all a bit overwhelming.
Once the police and FBI leave us alone, sardonically, I ask, “This must be how the royal family lives. Maybe I can visit them?”
Todd pulls my hand into his as his eyes search mine. “Love, I understand this must be really difficult, but I promise it won’t be forever. We’re managing this together. Let’s just be patient.”
I put my arms around his neck and kiss him tenderly. “Thank you. I know this isn’t easy for you either.”
“I’d walk on hot coals for you.”
My heart skips a few beats, and I’m thrilled by his admission. “Well, that’s where I draw the line. No hot coals for you,” I tease.
“I’ll give you whatever your heart desires.”
“Thank you.” My excitement plummets as I realize the implications. I’m a bit lost right now, but more than that, being stuck with someone at my side every minute of every day is tough. I enjoy my independence.
As though he read my thoughts, Todd states, “I’d bet you’re feeling claustrophobic right now.”
“I am. I don’t know what to do. I don’t have any real hobbies to distract me. I can’t concentrate to read a book, and I don’t want to work out that much.”
Todd lets out a deep laugh.
“I guess I can bake cookies, but that would only make my ass and boobs bigger.”
“I love your ass and boobs.” Todd wiggles his eyebrows.
“We can’t be naked all the time.”
“Sure we can. We can start a trend, call it ‘Naked Tuesdays.’ Everyone in San Francisco must go naked on Tuesday.”
“I’m not sure I want to see that much of my coworkers. In fact, I’m pre
tty sure I don’t want to see any of my coworkers naked.”
“Well good, because I don’t want them to see you naked either.”
“So now I’m back to figuring out what I can do to keep busy and not become a total recluse.”
“We can invite people from work over,” he offers.
I mull the idea over, and I like it. We’ll have a few people over and try to enjoy ourselves. “That would be nice for the weekend.”
“We can use the caterer we had before so we can just relax and visit.”
“I’m thinking a little less formal. Greer had a dinner party last year where it was essentially a potluck. Any interest in that?”
“I’m good with whatever you want. Do you want some time alone here? I can make plans and leave you in the apartment by yourself.”
How does he read my mind so well? “If you want to play golf one afternoon, I’m good with that.”
“I’ll ask Dillon, Mason, and Cameron if they want to play. Maybe Emerson too.”
“If I haven’t told you lately, I think you’re pretty awesome,” I gush.
He leans in and kisses my nose. “I think you’re pretty awesome too. And I want to keep you around, so I’m glad you’re finally listening to everyone.”
Chapter TWENTY-SEVEN
Todd
“Dude, you look exhausted,” Thomas tells me as he takes a seat on the other side of my desk. He’s dressed in golf pants and a pink dress shirt with the shirt sleeves rolled up. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in pink.
“Fuck you too.”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just calling it like I see it. I’ve got some things to discuss. You up for grabbing a beer after work?”
My head immediately starts to throb. “If you think you can quit right now, be prepared to get your ass kicked.” The four of us were sent out here by Angus to start this company. If Thomas thinks he can return to New York or work for a competitor, I’ll kill him.
I know people. I’ll make it happen.
“No, it’s not that. Four thirty work for you?”
“Yeah, I can make that work.” Might as well get this over with.
Thomas walks into my office. “Hey, it’s almost five already. Are you joining me for a drink or what?”
I look at the clock on my computer. Where does the time go? “Let me call Cynthia and let her know the plan.”
“You’re letting a woman know what you’re doing? That’s a first.”
“I’ll tell you all about it over beers. Five minutes? Meet you in reception?”
He nods his agreement, and I quickly pick up the phone.
“Hello?” she singsongs, and it makes my cock harden.
I sit back in my chair. Despite everything going on, I still love to hear her voice. I wonder if she’s wearing the LaPerla thong and bra from her collection. She looks so sexy in the scraps of lace. “Hey, gorgeous. How was your day?”
“Not too bad for a caged animal. And you?”
“It was busy. Thomas wants to meet for drinks. Are you okay if I go out with him?” If she hesitates at all, I’ll cancel.
She’s quick to answer. “Todd, you don’t have to ask me if you can go out with your friends. We have to trust one another. You do trust me, don’t you?”
“Of course, but I want you to feel safe, and being home alone may not do that.” Sheepishly I add, “And since you can’t go out for drinks with friends from work, you can veto me doing the same.”
“Oh, you’re terribly sweet. I’ll be fine. I can always ask one of Jim’s guys to sweep the apartment when we get in and stay inside if I’m not comfortable.”
“I’ll try to be home before nine.”
“If I’m sleeping, be sure to wake me up.”
We finish our call, and it takes all my willpower to not tell her how I feel. She has so much on her plate, and to put my feelings out there right now might make things worse if she doesn’t feel the same.
Walking to the elevator, I find Thomas waiting. “That was seven minutes, man. You’ve got it bad.”
“You have no idea. I want to get your opinion on something.” We descend in the elevator as I fill him in on Cynthia.
“I think she’s perfect for you,” he says in the end. “She’s smart, beautiful, and keeps you on your toes. Propose.”
“Wait. No.” I tell him all about the increase in security and the concerns I have as we make our way to the bar across the street from our building. “I’m thinking about taking Cynthia away, and I thought we might go someplace out of the way like Thailand for a month while some of this blows over. What do you think?”
“Holy shit, man. That’s some serious stuff. Do you think this is real or just stuff to scare you guys?” Thomas asks.
“It’s definitely real. She’s met with the assistant US Attorney and the FBI, and they did some checking on her old company. BrightStar was doing some really stupid shit with this Russian guy who’s involved with the Russian mob and they think the Russian government.”
“I guess I’d be afraid they could trace you to Thailand. Without a security team, I’d personally be screwed. I grew up in the OC. All I learned to do was bend my elbow to drink more beer and snort coke entirely too young. You grew up in a tougher neighborhood, so maybe you could take them….” Thomas fidgets with his shirt sleeve.
“I’ll talk to her about going away, and if she’s up for it, we can talk to the security team and see how viable they think it could be.” I pick at the label on my beer bottle. “So, what did you want to tell me?”
Pulling something from his pocket, he shows me a light blue box. “I’m going to ask Elizabeth to marry me.”
My stomach drops. He’s been with her less time than I’ve been with Cynthia, and he’s slept with half the woman in San Francisco since we’ve been here.
“Well, what do you think?”
“I… I think it’s fantastic.”
He sits back with a sigh of relief. “I love her, man. I can’t stop thinking about her.”
I know exactly what he means. “You do know she’s way out of your league.”
“Absolutely. Without a doubt. That’s why I need to ask her now before she realizes that. But in all seriousness, I love her and want to wake up with her every day for the rest of my life. I don’t want to screw this up.”
“Wow. I’m really happy for you. And she’d be a fool to tell you anything other than a resounding ‘Yes.’”
“I’m taking her to Marin, where we had our first date, and I have a plan. If she agrees, I plan on you being my best man, and her brother can stand with us.”
I pat him on the back and signal the waiter. “A glass of your best scotch, neat please. We need to celebrate.”
We sit and talk, and nine o’clock comes and goes. When I finally look at my watch, it’s after eleven. “Shit, man, I’ve got to go. I promised to be home two hours ago.”
“Hurry up and propose. After this shit’s behind her, she’s going to find some other guy if you don’t.”
“You could be right.” I hand the waiter my Black American Express and quickly sign for the check. “You need to go home and make love to your woman.”
“I plan to. See you tomorrow.”
Sitting in the back of the car on the drive home, I’m really happy for Thomas, but I’m a bit out of sorts. I know I’m in love with Cynthia, but I’ve just figured that out. I’m not ready to make a long-term commitment to her. He’s right though—she’s a catch, and if I don’t act soon, she’ll move on to someone else, and I don’t want that either.
Crap. Maybe I should go buy a ring just in case. But first I have to tell her how I feel. It shouldn’t be that hard.
I walk into the building and stop at the fifth-floor apartment. “Hey, guys. How was the night?”
“Good. She left her office just before eight, and we did a walk-through since she was by herself.”
“Did she ask you to stay in the apartment with her?”
“No. She was locked in, and everything seemed to be good.”
I nod. “Thanks.”
I head the rest of the way upstairs. There’s a Marvin Gaye album playing softly on the stereo as I enter our place, and I have a feeling I’m in trouble.
She’s passed out on the couch, wearing a see-through baby doll negligee. I debate on just covering her up, but after the last time I left her on the couch and those bastards tried to frighten her, I won’t do that again.
I sit down next to her and kiss her softly on the forehead. “Cyn, wake up. Let’s move you to the bedroom.”
She nods and gets up. “I’m sorry I fell asleep.”
“It’s late. Sorry. Thomas is proposing to Elizabeth, and we talked all about his plans.”
I’m not sure she’ll remember this tomorrow, but she mumbles, “That’s nice. I like her.”
I get her into bed, and she’s passed out before I know it. I drink a tall glass of water and strip down to my boxers, then crawl in beside her. She rolls into me, and I feel incredibly happy with her snuggled up next to me.
This is just right.
When my alarm sounds, I feel Cynthia’s arms wrapped around me. My morning wood is ready to go, but I need to get up.
“Hey, you got home late last night,” she murmurs.
“I’m sorry. Do you remember what I said about Thomas?”
“Vaguely. Something about him and Elizabeth.” Her hand wanders to my cock and rubs a circle deep at the base. It drives me crazy and makes me hard as a lead pipe.
“He’s going to propose.”
She begins to stroke me up and down. “That’s fast.” She says it in a sexy whisper.
Right now I would do anything she asked. She’s driving me wild.
I press my lips against hers in a sensual embrace. Her mouth opens, and our tongues mix and dance together hungrily. My body presses down into hers, my chest grinding against her voluptuous breasts, her nipples pebbling and poking at my own through the thin fabric of her negligee.
Obsession: (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #5) A Billionaire Russian Mob Romance Page 17
