Nerissa’s POV
An idea forms in my mind and before I can disperse it, I get up and walk out of my bedroom.
Maybe I can start by feeding Uncle Lorenzo breadcrumbs..... that should work right?.
Little things that don’t really matter. Enough to keep him satisfied while I figure out something more useful to give him or what to do about this whole situation.
I just need to find something and the best place to find it is in Lysander’s office.
The best time is now, too, since he’s still recovering and can’t exactly be up and about.
I’ll just sneak in and out of his office.
That’s all.....No big deal.
I walk down the hallway, occasionally glancing around to make sure nobody is watching me. The house is unusually quiet, which is perfect. I don’t need anyone asking questions about why I’m heading towards my husband’s office.
When I reach the door, I pause.
I’ve been in here a few times, but never with the intention of searching through his private documents.
I stare at the keypad.
Right.....The password.
I say a quick prayer to the heavens that his club office password is the same as his house office password.
I remember watching him enter the code on the keypad at his club that day. I wasn’t paying much attention at the time, but apparently, my brain decided to store the information anyway.
Thank God for that.
I carefully punch in the numbers and watch as the little screen flashes green.
My eyes widen.
Holy shit.
It actually works.
I quickly open the door and slip inside, closing it quietly behind me. After locking it again, I turn towards the room.
Lysander’s office is exactly how I remember it. Dark wood, expensive leather furniture, shelves lined with books and neatly arranged documents. Everything is organised with the kind of precision I’d expect from a man who likes having control over absolutely everything.
I walk towards his desk.
Now, where do I start?
I pull out the chair and sit, trying not to disturb anything unnecessarily.
There are several folders arranged in neat piles. Some have labels, others don’t. I open the first one and find financial statements from one of his companies.
I skim through the pages but find nothing particularly interesting.
I put it aside and pick up another.
Territory reports, another folder contains information about shipments, delivery schedules and business transactions.
I flip through a few pages, trying to understand what I’m looking at.
Honestly, I should have paid more attention when Cassian explained some of this business stuff to me.
I sigh.
This is harder than I thought.
I pull another folder closer and begin scanning its contents.
If Uncle wants information, I need something useful enough to convince him I’m actually cooperating, but not important enough to put Lysander’s operations at risk.
A small transaction, a minor business arrangement and something insignificant.
My eyes move over the figures on the page.
Then I hear a faint sound outside.
I freeze.
Footsteps?
I quickly look towards the door but when nothing happens after a few seconds, I release the breath I’d been holding and return my attention to the documents.
Come on, Nerissa.
Find something.....Anything.
I turn another page and another.
I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here, but I know one thing.
I need to be quick.
If Lysander wakes up and decides to take a walk around the house, I’m screwed.
I glance at the documents again. Perhaps I should look for something relating to one of his smaller businesses.
That would be a good place to start, I reach for another file.
Lysander’s POV
I’m about to throw a brick at someone’s head.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this fucking stale, stuck in one place without working or taking an active role in anything that involves handling a gun.
And I feel like I’m losing my mind.
Three days...Three fucking days of being told to rest, eat, take medication and avoid doing anything remotely strenuous.
Rocco has practically made himself my personal health prison guard.
If I didn’t know better, I’d think the bastard enjoyed ordering me around.
Which is why I was happy to take the reprieve when Fernando approached me this morning about some dealings from the club.
I own several companies, as well as a few small-time businesses, all of which require daily monitoring. Me not being around for the past few days has apparently messed a few things up.
But it shouldn’t be so.....That’s not the kind of business I’m running. My operations should be able to stand on their own even in my absence.
Apparently, someone didn’t get the fucking memo.
We’re missing money.....Over eighty thousand dollars.
Just gone Into thin fucking air.
I stare at the financial report in front of me, tapping my fingers against the desk.
Someone is stealing from me and I intend to find out who.
"Who is responsible for handling the cash at the drop houses?"
Fernando stands opposite me, holding another folder.
"It’s Angelo and...."
My watch goes off and I glance down at it, frowning.
A red light flashes across the screen.
INTRUDER ALERT.
I stare at it for a moment.
Then a slow smile spreads across my face.
Well...Well...Well...
I look at the screen again, checking the location.
My office....Someone has just entered my office and I know exactly who it is.
Fernando notices the change in my expression.
"Don?"
I lean back carefully, ignoring the slight discomfort in my abdomen.
He looks at me.
"Is something wrong?"
I chuckle.
No.
As a matter of fact, something is very fucking right.
I had wondered how long it would take before my little wife decided to do something reckless again.
And here she is....Walking straight into my trap.
I look at the security feed on my phone.
My beautiful, stubborn, criminally curious wife.
I shake my head, unable to suppress my smile.
Mi peque?o motín.
** My little Riot.**