Page 75 of Vienna Betrayal

Not into, through, straight through the floor to…

That area of the parlor was situated was right above the server farm on the floor below. Those servers contained complete copies of all his Wagner Global data, from customer information to the proprietary tracking system they used.

He was so stupid that even when he’d seen her open the parlor door—which should have been locked—he’d assumed someone had forgotten to close the door. Assumed she was still sleepwalking.

Even when he’d tried the door she’d closed behind her, found it locked, and had to enter his master code to open it, he’d still been stupidly hoping this wasn’t really happening.

Willful stupidity, because he’d fallen in love with her.

He watched her, shock freezing him in place, as if he’d turned to ice.

She was a spy—maybe on behalf of the US government. Was she really American, or was that another lie?

That she was some American 007 was possible, though it was far more likely that this was corporate espionage.

One of his competitors had hired her to steal his secrets.

Not a spy, a thief.

Did that make it better or worse? A spy could at least claim patriotic duty.

A thief then. And apparently a very good one. She’d manipulated him, had sex with him, and given him no reason to doubt or question her identity.

She’d been at the Orchid Club for him. But he’d been the one to approach her. It had been his idea to invite her into his home.

For one moment hope rose, and he was sure he was wrong.

There were none so blind as those who would not see.

Icy shock melted under the heat of a new emotion—rage. Pure, blinding rage.

Alexander stalked into the room, his anger burning a hole in his broken heart.

* * *

She was sofocused on trying to get the pincher to grab hold of the cable that she didn’t notice the sound of the door open.

But there was no way to miss the sound of rapid, heavy footsteps.

Alena released the laparoscope, and swiveled around, still on her knees.

Alexander.

Alexander was stalking towards her, his face twisted by anger.

Adrenaline flooded her system, even as her heart cried out in desolation.

It wasn’t until that moment that she admitted to herself that she’d hoped to see him again, to submit for him again. With the data she now had there would probably be no reason for her to contact him again, but the possibilities—either that she’d need to find her way back into his home, or that she could keep being Alena Moore long enough to see him at next month’s event—were what had kept her from mourning the fact that she had to leave him today.

As he closed in, her emotional anguish was quickly shoved aside in favor of panic.

Alena grabbed the HPA and jumped to her feet.

“Alexander—”

This isn’t what it looks like?It was.

I can explain?She couldn’t.

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