Page 51 of Captive Audience
I gasped. “Is that the Neumann TLM 103?”
Rook leaned against the doorframe while I took it all in. “Is that okay?”
“Are you kidding me? It’s the microphone of my dreams.” I walked through the room, touching everything to make sure it was real. The equipment in here alone cost upward of thirty thousand dollars, and that didn’t include the construction cost. “When did you have this done?”
“While you were locked up.”
“In a day and a half? How?”
“Money talks.” He smirked. “Come on. You can play with your new toys while I’m at work.”
I followed him out of my office to the wide hallway.
“Is there anything else you need? Name it and it’s yours.”
I’d never seen money flung around like this. Not in real life.
I snorted. “Just a Maserati in case I need to run a few errands.”
Rook glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “Would you like a Maserati?”
I stopped in the middle of the hallway. “Wait. Is that a serious question?”
He slowed down to answer. “I’m asking it, so yes.”
“Of course I don’t want you to buy me a Maserati. That’s crazy.”
“Is it?”
“Yes. And I already told you I don’t want gifts purchased with the proceeds of crime.”
“What if the money isn’t from crime? Maybe I’m just really good at investments.”
“Are you?”
“No. My brother was, though, and he left everything to me in his will. I’d trade it all in a heartbeat to have him back.”
A flicker of pain crossed his face, catching me off guard. I didn’t want to feel bad for Rook, but in that moment, I did. Just a little. Then I cursed myself for it.
“You don’t need a car. Finn will drive you from now on. Safer that way.”
“Who’s Finn?”
“Your bodyguard. You’ll meet him soon. But now, time for the tour.”
We walked through the rest of the apartment, and I lost count of how many bedrooms and bathrooms he pointed out. There was a gym, a wine cellar, a home cinema, multiple living spaces, and an impressive terrace stretching along the entirety of the southern side of the building. A library with a rolling ladder, a spa room with a sauna, even a panic room behind a concealed door.
We paused at a closed doorway, and Rook’s expression turned serious. “Stay out of here.”
I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess. It’s full of weapons? Drugs? A menagerie of mementos from all the people you’ve murdered?”
His shoulders tensed. “It was Niall’s room. I haven’t been in there since he died, and I don’t want anyone else poking through his things.”
Something about the clipped way he said it warned me not to push.
I nodded, not knowing what to say.
It was only as we walked back toward theliving room that I realized there was one place Rook hadn’t shown me. “Which bedroom is mine?”
