Page 16 of His to Possess
“It’s no problem,” I tell her, then force out words I know will hurt her. But I also know it’s for the best. “It’s no less than I would do for any friend of my sister’s.” Just as I expected, her face falls.
What I don’t expect is the way the hurt in her eyes makes my chest feel.
“Sleep well, Lilah,” I say hurriedly then leave her alone in the room before I can do something stupid like pull her back into my arms.
I wait until I’m safely in my wood paneled office before pulling her phone out of my pocket. I hadn’t thought twice about swiping it from the nightstand while she was in the bathroom. Is this an invasion of her privacy? Probably. Am I going to do it anyhow? Absolutely. If she won’t tell me what’s going on with her, I’m going to have to resort to different means.
To my frustration, her phone gives me little more info than Lilah herself. There’s only a handful of numbers stored in her contacts—her mother and brother, my sister, and a few names I don’t recognize, all of them female. She appears to delete all of her texts as well, and a quick glance at the photo roll shows me nothing but a few shots of her and her brother that all appear quite old.
What twenty-two-year-old doesn’t have a single selfie or picture with girlfriends on her phone? No social media apps, no texts. Not even a silly meme saved, like the ones my sister Veronica is forever sending me, much to my displeasure.
Veronica. I need to call my sister. She’s been close with Lilah since they were toddlers. Maybe she can tell me something about this mysterious change in her friend. But it’s early morning in Rome and besides, I’m not exactly sure yet how much I’m prepared to tell my little sister.
Frustrated, I set the mobile device on my desk and pick up my own phone. The number I need is at the very top of my contact list and I dial without concern for how late it is.
“Matthews.” The voice is clipped and businesslike.
“Good evening. I need your help. Any chance you could come to my penthouse?”
“Now?”
I glance at the mantle clock over my fireplace. One a.m. Too late to expect immediate service. Then again, I pay exceedingly well for precisely this kind of emergency.
“It’s important,” I say simply. That’s all it takes. Jane knows I’m not the type to exaggerate something like that.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I spend most of that time sipping a fresh glass of whiskey and staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the city below, trying not to think about the woman sleeping in my guest room. I get an alert on my phone when Jane accesses my private elevator so I stand and make my way to the foyer to meet her. She nods when I open the front door and I know that’s the only greeting I’m going to get. Jane is taciturn when she’s on the job.
She’s also usually prefers nondescript clothing while on the job. A glance over her outfit—black leather trousers, red lace bustier, and heels so tall and spiky they could be used as a weapon—tells me I pulled her away from something far more pleasurable than work.
“Let’s go to my office,” I say. “Quiet in the hallway, please.”
If she thinks that request is odd, she doesn’t say anything about it. But I’m sure she makes note of the closed guest room door when we pass it. Jane is very detail orientated, which is part of what makes her so good at her job.
Her utter ruthlessness is the other factor, and I have a feeling that’s exactly what I’m going to need from her before this is over.
This time, I lock the door when I close it. I don’t want to take any chances of Lilah interrupting.
“I’m going to need all the information you can find on Lilah Cartwright as soon as possible,” I tell her before her ass has even settled in the seat across from my desk. She raises an eyebrow.
“I have to say, Philip, your lack of formality is off-putting.”
I scowl at her across the desk. “This isn’t a social call, Jane.”
She studies me in a way I don’t like—Jane is way too damn observant—before she pulls a thin tablet from her handbag and taps some notes on the screen.
“Her family, too,” I continue. “Father’s name is William Cartwright. He’s a pretty big deal in international shipping.”
“What else?”
“Club Rendezvous.” Her fingers pause over the tablet. “I need everything you can get. Financials, membership rules, lawsuits, any payoffs they may have made.” She nods, fingers flying over the device. I clench my hands as bile pools in my belly. “I want you to pay particular attention to the three owners. I want everything on these men. If they got detention for smoking in secondary school, I want to hear about it.”
“You know we call it high school over here,” she mutters, grimacing when she sees my face. “Okay, so we’re not making any jokes tonight. Got it.”
“This is fucking serious, Jane.”
She nods again, tapping away at the screen. “Anything else?”
