Page 75 of Captive Audience
“I don’t want another woman touching me. While I wear this ring, I’d never disrespect you like that.”
I stared at him, my lungs tight. Relief swept through me as the jealous ache in my chest unclenched, and something softer, something more dangerous, crept in.
“Now”—he curled a stray lock of hair behind my ear—“tell me about your day, love.”
I was going to stab my stomach with a fork if it didn’t stop reacting to him calling melove.
Needing space, I stepped back before running Rook through my deep dive into Niall’s files. “The data’s squeaky-clean. No shady transfers. No anonymous deposits. Niall had nothing to hide.”
“I told you.”
“Do you know he was donating a significant amount to charities each month?”
“Aye. I’ve taken them on in his stead.”
“You have?”
He nodded. “It’s what Niall would’ve wanted.”
This man was full of surprises.
“I’ll keep digging through the records, but there’s something else I’d like to try. Something that could speed the investigation along.”
“Like what?”
“I know you want to keep the investigation discreet, but I think that’s the wrong approach. Let me discuss the case on the podcast.”
Rook blinked once. Twice, then said, “Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”
“Why not?”
“I think it’s obvious. One, you’re not airing out the Beasts’ dirty laundry in public. And two, it’ll make you a target for the Soul Collector.”
Rook snatched a glass from an overhead cabinet, filled it at the sink, and downed it in three gulps.
“Just hear me out. If I?—”
“No, Asha.” He spun to face me, eyes wild. “He had Niall killed. He could come after you, too.”
“That’s kind of the point. The podcast is bait. I’ll talk about the case and set a trap by making it seem like I have crucial new information. Then we wait and see who comes poking around looking for Inferno. Law enforcement sets traps like that all the time.”
“You’ve lost your bloody mind.”
“You want the case solved, don’t you? If we do it my way, we could get the answers you need in days or weeks. If I have to scour for fresh intel, we’re talking months or years. Maybe never.” I sighed at Rook’s torn expression. “I have a life to get back to, Rook. I can’t stay here with you.”
“Is it really that unbearable?”
Living in opulence with a world-class recording studio and not having to worry about my next paycheck? No.
Having my life dictated by an overbearing mobster with a broken moral compass? That I couldn’t live with.
Rook’s hopeful expression told me my answer mattered to him. In his own way, he was trying to make me happy, but it wasn’t enough to change my mind.
Unable to meet his gaze, I stared at my hands. “You know the answer to that.”
Rook nodded as though he accepted my position but wasn’t happy about it. He braced his palms on the counter, and his brows pinched in thought. He hesitated before saying, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to show you. It might not help, but you should still see it in case.”
“What is it?”
