Page 130 of Retribution
I am not a typically scary alpha. Her reaction to my anger is quite telling that she’s in the wrong. Stalking in their direction, I ignore everyone’s fear. If they’re innocent, they have nothing to worry about.
“I don’t fucking care,” I snarl. “Have you seen my omega in the last few minutes? Something is wrong and if you don’t tell me, you’ll be responsible for her death and mine.”
“Oh my god,” Tracy whispers. “It’s true. You bonded with that freak!”
“Please, speak about her like that again so I can show you how protective I am. She’s the mother of my child and my omega. Now tell me about your interaction with her.”
“I didn’t know she was in the restroom,” Tracy rasps. “I swear it.”
Both women have crocodile tears shimmering in their eyes but I don’t care. My anger is overriding any protective instincts I may normally have toward my staff. I need answers.
“Tracy,” Paula hisses, eyes wide as she joins me. “I gave very direct instructions that everyone be on their best behavior today.”
I had a feeling that she would make a statement to the staff.I hate the fact that people can’t simply be nice.
“I didn’t know she was there,” Tracy whines. “The girl hid when we came in. Who does that?”
“We were talking about her and she slammed out of the stall,” Miranda adds, seeing that I’m very close to exploding. “She told us off.”
“What is her name?” I ask, eyes narrowing. Both beta women pale and I shake my head. “I just fucking said it, but you don’t seem to care very much about a girl that you insulted. What did you say to her?”
“I would rather not say,” Tracy says, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks. “I was too unkind to repeat the words.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t work here,” I decide. “Paula, please have Human Resources begin the paperwork to have Miranda and Tracy terminated. See how I can remember your names when my company employs so many people? Very demure, very mindful. You’ve broken the etiquette clause in your contract, ladies. I will not be writing a recommendation letter.”
Leaving Paula to also call security, which I can tell that she is doing from the way she pulls out the radio she keeps on her hip, I face the rest of the office. Grant is speaking to someone several feet away, and I walk over to see if he’s having better luck than I am.
“Sir,” he says, reverting to his professional demeanor to handle the situation. If we both panic, all will be more fucked that it already is. “I may have found something here.”
“We saw her,” Jacob says softly. “Isolde was upset and hiding her face as she left the bathroom. She went out the exit there.”
He points at the door that leads outside to the attached stairwell. At least he bothered to learn her name.
“Grant, get the cameras pulled up and give me your gun,” I grunt. When Grant makes a noise, I shake my head. “It’ll take too long for you to give me Leila, and I shouldn’t be holding her when I’m this angry. She’s feeding off the energy in the room. Step away and help her calm down while I go check.”
Grant makes a face, and everyone freezes as he pulls out his weapon to hand to me. He’s the only one allowed through security with it other than the guards who work in this building.
“Does he know how to use that?” Jacob breathes as I take the firearm and remove the safety easily.
Grant moves away to pull up the cameras on a computer, while I walk toward the exit. Neither of us respond to Jacob.
“No one follow Mr. Reid,” a security guard yells as they enter the floor with a few other men. “Allow him space to handle this.”
Other security guards would attempt to stop me, but my guards are fully aware that I’m not an angry CEO that one should cross. If I am going after my girl and my personal guard isn’t making a fuss, then they shouldn’t either.
My hand shoves straight out to push the bar on the door, my eyes moving over the space to assess the situation.
A dead man is lying on the ground, leaking blood all over, and Isolde’s knife is nearby. Sucking in oxygen, my eyes see where a body upsets the blood pooling around the dead man, as well as the boot imprints of large men.
It appears as if there were three men based on how many sets there are, and as I look for clues, I also see one of Isolde’s hair pins almost glowing in the sunshine. It shouldn’t be so pretty today on one of the worst days of my life. It’s too cruel.
Blowing out a breath, I step outside as I avoid the blood to search for a video camera.
“Fuck,” I curse, incensed as I engage the safety again. There isn’t a fucking camera up here.
It’s like the confederacy of dunces chose today to come together and fuck up any chance of a decent lead.
Going back inside, I wave over Ryan, one of the security guards that’s been with us the longest.
