“Everything you were preparing for Mauro to look over, I want it on my desk.” I walked into the office and tapped Abigail’s desk as I walked by.

“Yes sir.” She snapped to attention immediately.

I turned on my laptop, waited for the documents, and instinctively pulled up the camera I had on Lizzy. I hadn’t made it through the night without leaving a piece of myself in the bed we shared. It was supposed to be another promise she fulfilled, but it was more. I took her innocence, and for the first time in my life, I felt a strange draw—an odd connection that didn’t want to let go. I had claimed women before, but it was never meant to last longer than the evening we shared—even if they wanted it to.

Lizzy was different. I could keep her locked in a cage, but I couldn’t very well get rid of her. I was forced to wake up next to her, and even if she was tied to my bed, it still felt different than waking up beside another one of my submissive sluts. Lizzy was no slut—she was no whore. She pretended to be dirty and filthy, but that was just a show. It didn’t matter what kind of degrading things I said to her, the look in her eyes told the real story. Those words hurt her—maybe as much as the punishment did.

I’m not sure I can keep hurting her. No matter how many times I try to tell myself that she’s nothing more than a tool for revenge, I feel myself slipping…

I had to stay focused on my task, even if I wanted to just say fuck Jackson Investments and go back home—and enjoy Lizzy’s body again. There was too much at stake with Josef Weber and whatever it was that he was trying to do. I didn’t believe he could do anything to hurt our company, but I had to make sure of it. Abigail brought me the documents I requested, and I started flipping through them, occasionally looking back at Lizzy in her cage. Until the camera went off—a darkness that immediately caused a surge of concern inside me.

What the fuck?

I thought something happened to my phone at first, but once I loaded up the security system with the camera, I realized that it had been turned off.

Mauro turned off the camera—but why? Oh my god…

I should have recognized the beast burning in Mauro’s eyes when he showed up at my house. He kept it bottled so well that I was blind to it. He was going to play with my toy—and I told him to. I felt a momentary sting of displeasure, but I let my emotions settle. Maybe it was for the better. It would put things back in perspective—she was just a toy in a cage—to be used by either of us at any time. He certainly deserved to let his beast run wild if that was what he needed after Josef Weber’s visit. She was as much his as she was mine.

At least I can get some work done here if I’m not constantly looking at the camera.

I spent an hour going through all the documents, trying to find a pattern—something that looked unusual without causing concern. If Wyatt was somehow working with Josef Weber—if they had an arrangement like he claimed—then it wouldn’t be obvious. Wyatt was too smart for that. It would be something secretive—even if I didn’t understand why. I looked over the deals from the last five years—then looked over them again. Something finally caught my eye—an account that hadn’t made any money—in fact, it always lost money. That would have never been acceptable, but it wouldn’t show up on an audit if it was at the Chicago office.

Why would Wyatt have an account that’s constantly losing money—more importantly, why would an investor stay with us if we were doing such a shitty job?

“Abigail!” I walked to the door and pushed it open. “There’s an account in Chicago—Ashton Retirement Fund. I want to know everything about. When we took them on as a client, who owns—just fucking everything!”

“Um, yes sir!” She nodded quickly.

What the fuck were you doing, Wyatt?

The account was ten years old, and just like the five years I was looking at previously, all ten years were the same—it never made money. I started digging deeper. It was owned by a woman named Hannah Ashton, and it sure as fuck wasn’t a retirement fund, even if that was what it was called on paper. The money that went into it didn’t come from an external source, it was being skimmed off our profits. That wasn’t uncommon with some of our older accounts, especially if it was an account our father set up. We didn’t offer those kinds of incentives any longer, but there was a time when that was common—but it wasn’t common when that account was set up, and we had done our best to get rid of those investors after Mauro took over.

The money goes into this fucking account, then it disappears. Fuck, this is money laundering. This is the kind of shit that could get the SEC on our ass immediately.

I felt my blood run cold when I started digging into the investments on that account. I recognized the names—they were shell companies owned by Josef Weber. Wyatt was funneling money directly into Josef Weber’s operations. The account was still active too—probably because the new guy we put in charge of the Chicago branch didn’t want to fuck with any of Wyatt’s longstanding accounts—or he knew what was going on too.

“Abigail, I need a flight to Chicago.” I walked out into the lobby, but then I saw one of our attorneys, Robert Fisk, charging through the lobby.

“Don’t make any travel plans.” He shook his head back and forth. “Where’s Mauro?”

“He’s busy, what the fuck is going on?” I felt like I already knew the answer to that question, but I was afraid to say it.

“This is a problem that you can’t fix—especially since you started it by fucking with Josef Weber.” He exhaled sharply.

“Don’t give me that shit. Tell me what’s going on!” My fists balled, but I realized that our staff was watching, so I pulled him into my office instead of hitting him.

“We’re fucked!” Fisk shook his head angrily as soon as he caught his balance after I shoved him halfway across my office.

“How?” I put my fists down on my desk. “Or does this have something to do with it?”

“Yeah, this is part of it.” He looked down at the documents on the Ashton Retirement Fund. “But this is just the beginning—your father’s will is being challenged.”

“What?” I blinked in surprise. “That’s—not possible.”

“Oh, it’s possible alright.” He grunted. “Because the woman challenging it? Hannah Ashton? She claims to be your sister.”

“Wait…” I looked down at the paperwork again. “The woman who owns this account—she’s my father’s bastard?”

“She might be, but regardless—it’s not going to be good, even if she’s not. Wyatt’s been funneling money to her, and that sure as fuck will look like he was paying her off, so she wouldn’t make a claim on the will.” He walked over and poured a drink.

“Fuck!” I motioned for him to bring me a glass as well. “Even from beyond the grave that mother fucker is still haunting me.”

“We need to get a statement together. I hope I don’t need to tell you how bad this is going to be when the press gets the story.” He walked over and sat down. “Where the fuck is Mauro?”

“He’s…” I looked at the screen where Lizzy’s face should have been. “He’s busy.”

“You just signed up a whole bunch of new investors with this power play you made on Josef Weber. Most of those contracts are still new enough for them to immediately be broken without much legal fuss—especially if it looks like you suckered them in because you knew the company was about to get destroyed in the media.” He exhaled sharply.

“Okay, let’s say that’s about to happen,” I growled under my breath and took a drink. “Let’s say this woman—Hannah Ashton—is my father’s bastard. How the fuck did she get tangled up with Josef Weber? Why wouldn’t she come to us? We would have made things right…”

“How do you know she hasn’t?” He tilted his head to the side. “Wyatt was your father’s oldest son. Maybe she went to him—and maybe he handled it.”

“By paying her off…” I sighed and growled again. “Fuck…”

“As for Josef Weber? Who knows. He certainly seems to have a hard-on for Jackson Investments.” Fisk looked towards the door. “I really need to talk to Mauro and figure this out.”

“Right now, you’re figuring it out with me.” I slammed my hand on the desk. “God damn it. Wyatt was a fucking fool.”

“Yes, I’m afraid he might have been.” Fisk nodded.

Fisk and I planned a statement. All we could do was deny that we knew our father had another child—a denial that wasn’t going to look very good considering that our company had been paying her off for the last ten years. It was just the best explanation we had. I still didn’t know how our sister—if she really was our sister—had gotten mixed up with Josef Weber. I wasn’t sure I was going to find out the answer to that question without speaking with one of them. I was at the end of my ropes with legal nonsense and shit I normally didn’t deal with when Mauro came storming into my office.

“I got your message—what the fuck is going on.” Mauro looked disheveled, and I knew why—he had been playing with my toy before he got the message.

Fisk and I filled Mauro in. He was ghost-white when we were done, but his anger exploded as the news simmered. The dots were right there in front of us. The company that had been getting funded from our profits—the tie to Weber’s shell companies. Our downfall had been orchestrated for a decade—just waiting until the time was right—or perhaps there was another catalyst. One that began to sink in as I ran through the scenarios in my head. Wyatt’s death. That was what started everything. I assumed it was Lizzy’s blackmail that pushed him to take his own life, but that might not have been it—it might have been a secret that he had been keeping for a long time—one that was about to come crashing down—one that could very well lock us in a cage.

“Once this news breaks, if you’ve got any other secrets that need to be cleaned up, I’d advise you to get them in order immediately.” Fisk exhaled sharply.

Yeah, I’ve got a pretty big one at my house right now—one that might be there for something she didn’t actually do.

“Right…” I nodded

“What are you going to do?” Mauro caught me as soon as I left my office and pulled me over to the side so nobody else could hear us.

“I don’t fucking now.” I hissed my response. “Fuck!”

“I’ll let you know if there are any development here—but you’re not going to hurt her, are you?” He tilted his head and I saw a look of concern on his face.

“No more than I already have…” I shook my head and started walking to the door.

And after last night, I’m not sure I can let her go. But what choice do I have? I can’t very well have a girl locked in a cage if charges are filed and I ended up in handcuffs.