Page 70 of Dangerous Seduction

Val gripped my arm as we stumbled out into the night air. “Nat,” she said, her voice tight with concern. “What are we going to do?”

I stared out into the street, my world tilting on its axis. “I don’t know, Val,” I whispered. “But if Morrow is the mole... we’re in deeper trouble than we ever imagined.”

THIRTY-TWO

DANTE

The fluorescent light overhead flickered, casting an eerie, staccato glow over the rows of filing cabinets that stretched out before us. I could hear the distant hum of the city outside, but here, in the belly of my father’s downtown office building, time stood still, suspended in a web of secrets and lies that had sustained my family’s empire.

Marco’s dark eyes met mine, a silent nod was all the confirmation I needed that we were in this together, two brothers in arms against the most formidable adversary of all – my own flesh and blood. Ricardo Reyes, the man who had raised me, the man whose legacy I was determined to dismantle, one incriminating document at a time.

I thumbed through the files, my eyes scanning the pages with ruthless efficiency. Numbers, transactions, ledgers – a tangled web of financial deceit that painted a vivid picture of my father’s illicit dealings. Money laundering, bribery, extortion – it was all there in black and white, a testament to the ruthless ambition that had fueled the Reyes cartel’s rise to power.

“Jackpot,” I said, a grim smile tugging at the corners of my mouth as I snapped a photo of yet another damning piece of evidence.

Marco didn’t respond, too focused on his own task, his fingers flying over the keyboard of a desktop computer as he accessed my father’s encrypted financial records. The man was a wizard with technology, able to navigate firewalls and decrypt passwords with an ease that bordered on the supernatural.

I was about to suggest we wrap things up when a prickling sense of unease set my every nerve ending on high alert. I had learned long ago to trust my instincts.

“Marco,” I hissed. “We’ve got company.”

His head snapped up, his gaze meeting mine with an intensity that spoke volumes. “How much time?”

I cocked my head, straining to pick up any sound that might betray the presence of an uninvited guest. “Not much. Maybe a minute, tops.”

Marco didn’t hesitate, his movements swift and precise as he began to shut down the computer, covering our digital tracks with the same efficiency he applied to everything in his life. “We need to move. Now.”

I nodded, tucking the last of the files back into place before following Marco towards the exit. We had almost reached the door when the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder with each passing second.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, as I weighed our options. There was no way we could make it out of the building without being seen, not unless we could find another way out.

Marco seemed to read my thoughts, his eyes flickering towards the window at the far end of the room. “The ledge,” he whispered, already moving towards the window. “We can hide on the ledge until they’re gone.”

I didn’t need any further convincing, falling into step behind him as we opened the window. The sound of voices grew louder as Marco climbed onto the ledge, the security guards no doubt conducting a routine sweep of the premises.

My heart hammered against my ribs, not from fear of being discovered, but from a sheer, primal refusal to end up as a smear on the pavement fifty feet below. I gripped the windowsill, my knuckles white as I gritted my teeth and hauled myself onto the tiny ledge, barely wide enough to accommodate our feet, my back pressed against the building.

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, my voice barely audible over the distant sounds of traffic. “I fucking hate heights.”

Marco, the bastard, had made it look effortless. “Having second thoughts, hermano?” he quipped, an indulgent smirk on his face as he took in my less-than-graceful struggle.

The answer was a resounding yes, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of hearing it. “Don’t be an asshole,” I shot back. “Just keep a lookout.”

Marco’s smirk widened, his eyes glittering with silent laughter. “Sure thing, bro,” he said, pivoting on the ledge with an almost casual grace of a cat burglar that I knew was calculated to irritate the hell out of me.

I tried to focus on anything but the dizzying drop beneath my feet, but my mind kept conjuring images of plummeting to the unforgiving concrete below. My palms were slick with sweat, and I could feel my heart pounding in my ears.

“Hey, Dante,” Marco said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “Remember that time in Cancun when we climbed that ancient Mayan temple?”

I managed a weak chuckle. “You mean when I got stuck halfway up and you had to talk me through it?”

Marco nodded, a fond smile playing on his lips. “That’s the one. You made it to the top then, didn’t you? This is no different. Just focus on my voice and take deep breaths.”

I closed my eyes, concentrating on Marco’s words and the steady rhythm of my breathing. Slowly, the panic began to subside, replaced by a tentative calm.

“There you go,” Marco encouraged. “You’re doing great, hermano. Just a little longer.”

Peering cautiously through the window, I scanned the room we had just vacated, my brow furrowing as I caught sight of the guards. They moved with a practiced efficiency, their movements crisp and purposeful as they swept the space for any signs of disturbance.

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