Page 156 of Enthrall Ecstasy
“So Dominic put you up to this.”
I should never have put Rue at risk. My feelings for her were so intense I’d tried to deny them.
I grabbed the pen and pressed the contract against the wall. Scanning it quickly to make sure what I was signing was the submissive contract, I signed my name along the last line of the page.
It felt so damn good.
I handed the pen back to Jake.
We swapped a look and he gave me a compassionate smile. The kind that told me he got me.
I watched him wander off toward the stairs.
Standing at the top of the steps, I thought about how I’d felt while placing my signature on that form.
Rue was mine.
This way, I could still be her hero—make sure she remained safe.
I could go back into the room with Rue, but I wanted to tell her later. Make it special…give us something to look back on.
Following Jake, I descended the stairs, two steps at a time. When I got to the bottom I headed for Richard’s office.
It was empty.
Making myself comfortable at his desk, I got ready to do some work at his computer. His screen was the size of a fucking house, for God’s sake.
He’d taken over Cole’s space after he’d been handed the reins. Richard made it his by adding touches of his personality to the décor, but he’d left a few items that reminded us of Cameron.
Cole leaving as the director of Chrysalis was one of the harder transitions for us. We admired Richard, but Cole had been the once beating heart of this place.
My team had sent over a report detailing Enthrall’s security footage. Deciding to check it out for myself, I scanned it over carefully. Darryn hadn’t returned to Enthrall, which was good, but the reason for him being there initially still wasn’t clear.
Working methodically, frame by frame, I scanned the footage from Enthrall’s perimeter recorded weeks ago, logging who came and went—names, license plate numbers, deliveries, and the coming and going of staff.
I reversed the footage all the way back to the hour that Darryn had tried to infiltrate Enthrall. Later that morning, he’d gotten stuck in the elevator—a quick-thinking Lotte had sealed him in there.
When the elevator doors finally opened, he’d tripped out. More evidence I’d not touched him, and his wrist sprain had nothing to do with me—though I might have strong-armed him to get him to hand over his camera.
And then escorted him out of the building.
A minute later, there I was on the footage seen with Darryn climbing into my Rover parked out front.
There was me driving off with him to go get his wrist X-rayed at Cedars. We’d had his car towed to his address in Santa Monica—the one that turned out not to be his place.
I jolted forward when minutes later, right at the bend in the road, I saw my car pass a Mercedes-Benz.
It was Cameron’s car heading toward Enthrall.
Continuing to watch that morning’s footage, I followed Cole to the front door.
The near miss was heart-stopping. Zooming in on Darryn’s face through the windshield, I could see he’d not even clocked the car or driver heading in the opposite direction.
Something told me Darryn was interested in only one client. And that mark was Cameron Cole.
I read that Darryn’s background check indicated he had once worked for TMZ. Now, he was a contractor for hire.
According to a copy of his tax records that we’d obtained—illegal, I know—Darryn actually lived in an apartment in North Hollywood. That Santa Monica house was his way of trying to shake us off.
