Page 87 of Meet Cute or Your Money Back

He holds out his hands. “A businessman.”

I stand there, my heart doing a tango in my chest as Drakon’s words buzz around my head like pesky flies. The room feels smaller all of a sudden, the air thick with tension and unspoken suspicions. I glance at Soleil, her face a mask of grim certainty. She’s buying what they’re selling—hook, line, and sinker.

“If this is true,” I start, tapping my fingerto the paperwork, “then we should be able to verify it, along with both of you, right?” Then, I turn once more to look at Drakon. “And I’d be curious how Thatcher’s wife’s mysterious death fits into all this...” My voice trails off into the heavy silence. These are serious accusations, and despite Thatcher’s tough-as-nails exterior, I can’t reconcile them with the man who’s shown me nothing but loyalty—and okay, a few smirks that could melt butter on a cold day.

“An unfortunate accident,” Drakon says.

“Bullshit,” I whisper.

“Allie,” Soleil snaps, but I don’t let her finish.

“We lost a Russian man in that accident, too,” Drakon says, not phased by my outburst.

“A Russian man who was going to make dealing in drugs and guns a lot harder for you…isn’t that right?” Drakon’s mouth merely twitches. “How did you two even learn about my article? Nothing’s been published yet. What could have possibly led you here to Soleil’s news desk?”

“Why…youdid, of course, Ms. Larsen.” His smile sends a shiver down my spine. “Enough googling and your fact checkers reaching out and asking questions about Thatcher Bryant. Well, my Russian team and I had alreaady zeroed in on the fact that Bryant was somewhere in South Carolina and we had mostly secured that it was either here in Charleston or in?—”

My brain snags on my search the other night for Russian-owned businesses in South Carolina and how there are only two bakeries. One here and one in… “Columbia, South Carolina,” I say, finishing his sentence.

“That’s right,” Drakon says, then points a finger at me, tapping it briefly to the tip of his nose. “You really are a good little investigative journalist, aren’t you?”

“Not good enough,” I mutter under my breath.

His eyes narrow on me as he whispers, “I suppose not.”

“Mr. Bryant has been off the grid for some time,” Admiral Brady says. “We in the military were not specifically looking for him until Mr. Mikhailo called us. But if he’s on some sort of revenge mission, you have to let us know. If he’s suffering delusions or PTSD, we have programs for retired personnel that can help. This is why we need you to bring us to his offices.”

I narrow my eyes at the admiral “The entirety of the US military is at your fingertips…and you needmyhelp in bringing you to the office of a small matchmaking company in Charleston, South Carolina?”

This isn’t adding up.

Admiral Brady gives me a small smile. “As I’m sure you know, Thatcher Bryant is very secretive. And damn good at what he does. We can and will find his headquarters on our own. But it would be a lot faster if we had your cooperation.”

I straighten my shoulders and look Admiral Brady directly in the eyes. “As far as I know, he’s just a single dad running a matchmaking business.” I slowly turn my gaze to Drakon. “No revenge plot or PTSD to speak of. So…are we done here? If Thatcher has already been tried and honorably discharged for his part in your brother’s death and there are no other crimes, then everyone should be free to go. Right?”

I glance nervously at Soleil, hoping she’ll back me up here. But her face is an impassive mask as she taps a pen impatiently on her desk.

Soleil’s stern expression softens as she regards me with concern. “Allie, I know you feel loyal to Thatcher, but these are serious allegations. If there is a revenge plot that you do know about, you can be tried as an accomplice or worse.Not to mention, had we published your article as is, without these new findings, we could have put the paper in a really perilous situation.”

I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up a hand to stop me, turning to Drakon. “However, Allie is also correct that, if to her knowledge, there is no treason, revenge plot, or PTSD, then there doesn’t seem to be any additional services needed by either of you.”

I let out a small breath of relief and clutch Biscuit a little tighter, as if he can lend me some of his boundless courage. His warm fur presses into my chest. At least Soleil’s willing to exercise some caution with this. It doesn’t make me feel any safer, though. Drakon still likely knows where I live and I heard his goons discussing taking lives.Andhands.

There’s only one person I trust…and it’s the other person they’re after.

“Unfortunately, Allie, this means we likely have to kill the story,” Soleil adds. “At least for now. We can always regroup later after I verify Admiral Brady and these documents.”

I nod. “I understand.”

She gives a nod to Drakon and the admiral. “Making accusations through the press would be reckless on either side of the coin here. I’ll have proper authorities review the facts first if we decide to proceed.”

“Of course, of course,” Drakon says smoothly. Too smoothly. “I only came here because I want justice for my countryman. How to handle it is, of course, the decision of Admiral Brady and the US justice system.” His voice drips with false sincerity. “I wouldn’t dream of sullying your newspaper’s good name with unsubstantiated rumors.”

He fixes me with an icystare as he adds, “Sometimes the truth can be...inconvenient. But it always comes to light eventually.”

A chill runs down my spine at the unspoken threat in his words.

Admiral Brady clears his throat and turns toward the door. “Ms. Larsen, can I give you a ride somewhere? You mentioned you walked your dog here.”

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