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  What was she going to do with all this information? She could whistle blow and bring the whole company down to its knees. Did she really want that? It would mean her career would be a waste. She’d forever be associated with THAT corporation. Nobody would touch her with a ten foot pole.

  Truly though, she didn’t even know what she was carrying. Someone with expertise and a lot of time would have to piece it all together. She’d found thousands and thousands of corporations. All a tangled mess with overlapping members. That just didn’t seem right, but what did she know? Maybe it was normal.

  She reached her car and popped her trunk open with the button on the key fob. Once she put the box in the back, the weight on her conscience swelled. The real reason she was saving/stealing the info weighed on her mind.

  Leverage.

  Leverage she could use against Red Bluff International.

  Leverage she could use to help Dmitri.

  No. She couldn’t think of him. She wouldn’t. She slammed her trunk shut. She missed him, and she hated herself for it. She missed his intense green eyes. His tall, strong body. The way he said her name. How soft he’d been when he’d told her he cared for her.

  No. Stop.

  She glanced around the garage for the strange man she’d seen before, but he was nowhere to be seen. Well, that’s something.

  She drove home. The sun was hitting the horizon, turning everything into beautiful bright colors. Traffic was heavy, but once she got close to Allen Parkway it had lightened up. Runners and walkers wove by the bayous, and mothers pushed carriages on the wide sidewalks.

  Life moved on regardless of what was happening in her life. She’d learned that the hard way when they’d died.

  The sun had risen the morning after the terrible car accident. After the agonizing phone call to Landon’s mother. Cars had started up for the next morning’s commute. Babies had cried. People got up and went to work while she had lain in the dark and suffered.

  She parked in her spot and then carried the box up the stairs. She stashed it in the coat closet near the front door, then shoved it in the back and covered it with coats. The USB drives she threw in a random drawer in her kitchen.

  Once those things were put away, she felt lighter. She changed into loose cotton pants and a tank top and cranked up the AC. She rummaged through the kitchen for her knives to cut some vegetables to cook with chicken.

  It was there, shoved into the corner of her kitchen counter, behind the wine bottles.

  A gun. His gun. Still in the holster.

  It chilled her to the bone. The gunrunner had left his gun in her space. It was a symbol of everything bad about him.

  Fear mixed with desire rolled through her. That was the sickness in her, that she would be afraid of him and want him all at the same time. That maybe the fear did excite her. And that was wrong. Very, very wrong.

  She picked it up, and it felt heavy in her hand. It couldn’t have weighed that much, but it felt heavier than her boxes of stolen information from her company. She pointed it towards an outside wall, away from the interior of the condo and then pulled it out of the holster.

  It was loaded, judging by the weight, but she was a Texan—she knew her way around a semi-automatic handgun. She pushed the magazine release with her right hand, catching the long, 20-round magazine with her left. She moved the slide back and forth until a bullet popped out of the chamber.

  She twirled it in her hand. 40 caliber, hollow point. She plopped it down on the counter and then focused her attention on the gun. She was no expert, but she’d never seen anything like it. Heavy and black. No manufacturer. No markings. Nothing. She wasn’t knowledgeable enough to know the maker just by looking.

  She set it down and then picked up the holster. A whiff of cologne reached her. She put the holster near her nose and inhaled deeply. His scent was strong, which made sense. After all, the holster had been tucked against his skin, probably day after day.

  It brought everything back to her that she’d been fighting off—the intense sex, the way he stared at her while he made love to her, all of the things he’d said to her that she thought she’d never wanted to hear from another man.

  The tears came next. They kept coming as she cried for her loss. She had feelings for him, whether they were right or wrong, and she needed to feel them and mourn the end of his presence. She needed to mourn the loss of the little flicker of light that had come back in her soul. She needed to mourn the loss of a career, in a trust that was violated with a company where she had dedicated years of her life.

  She sank to the kitchen floor, still holding holster. She thought of Josh. How he’d asked her to marry her in their weekly afternoon walk at Memorial Park. He’d made her warm and soft and care in a way she never had before. She’d started hugging people. She stopped shying away from intimacy. She’d become less selfish. She’d become part of a family, her own family.

  She thought of Landon, how he’d wiggled his way into her heart, and she had loved him hard, like he was her own child. She’d worried about him constantly—whether his diet was okay, whether he was adjusting to his dad’s remarriage to her, whether he was happy in school. All of the worry in the world hadn’t saved him.

  The police officers had told her it wasn’t her fault, but she’d been driving when the drunk driver had slammed into them. She’d replayed it over and over in her head, wondering if there was anything she could have done to make it play out differently.

  The drunk man that killed them had lived with only minor injuries. He had no car insurance and an expired driver’s license. He was just an alcoholic fuck driving his sister’s car.

  Josh’s and Landon’s deaths were senseless in every sense of the word. She hated life, hated everything. Didn’t have anything to live for, except her career.

  She pulled herself off the floor and went to her couch. She dried her tears and watched the news—no mention of the arrest of Dmitri.

  She fell asleep with the TV as her only company.

  Chapter 14

  “Right this way, Ms. Latrude.”

  Sophia nodded and smiled, then followed the woman into an elevator. “Just scan your badge here and then you can push the button for the proper floor. You’re authorized on the second and fifth floor.”

  “I understand.”

  The woman, Dawna, she said her name was, waited expectantly. Sophia managed to not roll her eyes while she waved her badge in front of the scanner and selected the second floor.

  “Good,” Dawna said crisply, as if Sophia was a child.

  The elevator lurched and Sophia gritted her teeth. It was her first day of the secondment. She’d been photographed, badged, and shown around by a very obnoxious, bubbly Dawna. Her sweater had cats on it and her red glasses were secured to her neck with gold beads which cascaded down the side of her face. She took them off and on often, as if it was a nervous habit. Dawna was probably a really nice lady, but it was way too early for Sophia to deal with someone like her.

  She followed Dawna out of the elevator and down the hall to her new office. She found her eyes darting around for glances of Dmitri or Gram. Hell, she’d take Baldy at this point.

  She chided herself as her heart sank. She was on the floor that housed HR, Accounting, and some Legal. He wouldn’t be here. Wouldn’t be anywhere near here. If he was here, he’d be in his private office.

  She needed to stop thinking about him.

  Dawna was yammering on and on about the office, which was lovely. White desk. White walls. White leather sofa. Crisp and clean and modern. Dawna finally left her alone to settle in before IT arrived to walk her through training on their HR portal system.

  She put her briefcase down and walked to window. She wasn’t very high up so she could see people clearly on the sidewalk below and hear the traffic.

  That was fine with her. It made her feel less alone.

  So far everyone had been nice. There were a lot of Russians, but also Americans, Indians, and a few expat
s from Europe. It wasn’t what she expected, this nice façade of professionalism. She guessed most of the people were what she had been: trusting that their company was on the up and up. They probably had no idea of the dangers lurking in their hallways.

  She sank into her white leather chair and called Marsha.

  “Sophia! I miss you already. How long is your secondment?” Marsha asked after the introductory greetings.

  “Only a few months, and I’ll be in on Friday.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Marsha said.

  “Any missed calls?” Sophia asked. “Are you handling everything okay?”

  “Fine. Everything is fine but…” Marsha’s voice trailed off.

  “But what?” Sophia asked.

  Marsha whispered. “They were in your office. Ms. Relder, Don Leed, and a few others. They went through your desk, said they needed something but I don’t know what they could have needed.”

  Sophia froze, worry and fear pushing through her veins. “What?”

  “Yeah, it was weird. They did it early this morning. I wouldn’t have known except I came in extra early and caught them. I asked if I could call you for them, but they said not to bother you.” She sighed and Sophia heard all the tension in her voice.

  They knew. They knew she had downloaded the documents. Of course they did. Of course they could tell. She knew they would find out.

  She took a deep breath before answering, carefully choosing her tone and words. “It’s fine, Marsha. Don’t worry about it. I have a feeling I know what they were looking for.”

  “Okay,” Marsha said. “Sophia, is everything okay? You’ve been...off. Things have been off.”

  Sophia glanced at her partially open door before answering. This time she whispered, “Marsha, I’m going to put you in touch with someone. Her name is Andrea. She’s a recruiter. I want you to get out of there. Find another job. I’ll give you a reference.”

  “Are you firing me?” Marsha said.

  “No. Not at all. I would never do that. I am trying to help you. Please trust me and get out of this company. It is not okay to work there anymore. Do you understand? Can you trust me?”

  “You’re scaring me,” Marsha said. “But I’ll listen. I will.”

  “Okay. We never had this conversation,” Sophia said.

  “I know, Sophia. I hope you’re leaving, too.” Marsha hung up. Sophia processed this, twisting the opal ring on her right middle finger round and round.

  Hopefully Marsha would take her advice. She heard the echo of Dmitri in her when she asked Marsha to blindly trust her. That wasn’t fair. It hadn’t been fair of Dmitri to ask her that. Look where it had gotten her.

  A light knock on her door brought her eyes up. She expected IT, but that wasn’t who stood in her door frame.

  “Mr. Alvang!” She couldn’t hide her shock. She stood quickly, buttoning her suit jacket as she stood.

  He smiled and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. Fear wrapped around her when he did.

  She remembered that cold smile. He’d met them in the boardroom, right before Dmitri and the armed men had come in. He’d tried to get her to leave, probably not to spare her but rather to keep her from knowing his dirty little secrets.

  Calm down. She had to play it cool. He was here to feel her out. She was a liability to him because she’d been there. Red Bluff International had put her in that horrible situation, and now here she was, alone and unprotected to deal with this herself.

  “What a pleasant surprise,” she said in a calm, professional voice. It sounded so smooth it even surprised her. She strode toward him with big confident steps and shook his hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  He shook her hand, one eyebrow rolling up. “And you, Ms. Latrude.”

  “Please,” she said warmly. “Call me Sophia.”

  “Sophia,” he said with his thick Russian accent. It made her heart hurt just a little bit to hear her name in that accent.

  They were silent. Tension grew, but she didn’t want to make nervous chatter, so she let the silence linger.

  “Please sit,” he finally said. He gestured to her office chair.

  “I will. It’s a beautiful office.”

  He smiled at her comment and then sauntered to her desk. He ran his fingers across the top, one side to the other, never taking his eyes off of her. “So smooth,” he said. She forced her smile to stay plastered on her face. “I trust you are settling in okay?”

  “Absolutely. You’ve got a good group here,” she said.

  That made him laugh, and they both knew why. She stretched her smile even wider even though she was alarmed.

  “Well,” he rapped her desk a couple of times with outstretched fingers. “Just came to check on you. I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.”

  This was fear. Just fear. No excitement. Just a sense that she was really in over her head.

  He removed his hand from her desk, turned around, and walked toward her door. She was scared, yes, but she was smart, too, and damn tired of people messing around with her.

  The anger emboldened her. “Mr. Alvang!” she called out.

  He stopped and then turned to face her. His smile slipped when he saw her face. She had dropped her smile and her pleasant tone. She tried to look impassive and distant. Like Dmitri. “You don’t have anything to worry about with me so no need to drop by. Ever.”

  He didn’t answer, but turned away and left her office. The surprised look on his face satisfied her.

  The IT guy came in shortly after, and she pushed all the crazy crap out of her mind and focused on her work. By the time the day ended, she’d been trained by IT, oriented with the second floor, and had dealt with a stack of openings that needed to be filled ASAP.

  The rest of the week dragged by. She found herself searching for Dmitri in the hallways during the day and then shaming herself for it. After work, she worried and worried about what she would return to the next morning. At night, she searched for a bit of happiness or distraction, but she could feel the darkness encroaching more and more.

  It was the darkness that had taken her before. After they’d died, it surrounded her and filled her. It kept her in bed. Made her push food away. Made her think about ending her own life. Made her not care anymore. On its more merciful days, it had made her numb.

  It had receded, after months of therapy and short term medication. It had slipped away and she’d been able to laugh again. To feel joy. To want friendship. To feel lonely. To want sex. To eat.

  She’s stopped going to therapy. She’d thrown herself into work. She’d been better. But she hadn’t, because the blackness was still there, waiting for her to be weak again. Now that she was, it was back.

  She thought about therapy, but she couldn’t. If she slipped and said the wrong thing, she could get herself in trouble, so she didn’t.

  Friday became a happy day, or at least a less miserable one. She would be back in her familiar, old office. She could find out what they had been looking for. She could search for more damning evidence on the network.

  She felt light enough Friday morning to stop on her way for her favorite coffee. She dashed into her office early, before Marsha arrived.

  She punched the power button on her computer and tapped her foot impatiently while she waited for it to boot up. She scanned her desk, which was clearly disheveled from their search, but saw nothing missing.

  Finally, she logged in and opened her email, which was packed to the brim. She clicked on the network folder

  “Accessed Denied.”

  She clicked on her local, personal folders. Empty.

  They’d actually deleted her work documents. Her legitimate work documents that she needed to do her job. Then they’d removed her from the network drives.

  They’d violated her privacy, but she had violated theirs. It was their own damn fault for being complete and total idiots and not even bothering to hide their shady shit from her. Because they knew you would never care
to look.

  But she did look.

  She sat at her desk, staring at her growing email inbox. Part of her wanted to storm up to Ana Relder’s office. But the other part knew better. She had to play the game. Keep cool.

  She wouldn’t say anything. Not a damn word.

  But she would destroy them.

  She frantically searched through her now messy desk and then remembered her heavy sweater still hanging on the coat rack near her door.

  She ran to it and shoved her hands in the pockets until she found what she was looking for: a ring full of keys. Keys to Red Bluff International—every room in this building—keys to just about anywhere she needed to go.

  She was out of her office and in the stairwell in a flash. The records room was one floor up. Her heels were noisy on the stairs, but there was no one else in there that early. She ran to the records room door and swiped her badge. It flashed red and stayed locked. Fuck. She tried entering her bypass code on the keypad. Red again.

  They would know she tried to get in here.

  She went up one more floor to accounting. She was already ashamed at what she was about to do. She pulled her blouse down, exposing her ample cleavage. She tousled her hair and walked into Bill’s office.

  He was there, of course. Rumpled tie and coffee stains on his tie, but the guy was a genius. And, he was head of finance.

  His eyes widened when she walked in. “Hi, Sophia. How are you? How is the secondment?”

  She smiled and titled her head. “Oh, it’s work. You know how it is.” She walked towards him, purposefully adding an extra swing to her hips.

  “Can I ask you for a favor?” She paused in front of his desk. He had nowhere to look but at her narrow waist and large breasts.

  “Uh, yeah. Sure,” he stammered. Poor guy. He’d always had a thing for her.

  “Can I borrow your badge?” She leaned forward and laughed. “I can’t find mine and I need to get into the records room before my new hire shows up at eight.”

  His eyes bounced between her cleavage and her face. “Um...I’m not supposed to do that, but yeah. Sure. Can you bring it right back?”

  “Of course!”