Chapter 2: Key of Suspicion

TORI

I rushed down the hallway, my breath unsteady. The moment the door clicked shut behind me, the façade I’d held together so carefully cracked. My fists clenched at my sides as the encounter replayed in my head. Every word, every calculated move echoed through me, shaking something loose.

“Arrogant prick,” I muttered, but the fire behind it had already died. I’d faced worse men. But Mr. Kincade wasn’t like the others. He unsettled me.

It wasn’t just his authority or the way he saw straight through me. It was the way I reacted. The heat of his body. The sharp bite of his cologne. I hated how it made my pulse race.

Why the hell do I let him get to me?

I shoved the supply closet door shut behind me, breath still ragged. The cramped space pressed in, offering the solitude I needed. I leaned back against the shelves, my fingers trembling as they found the necklace at my throat.

I’d survived men who tried to control me, break me. Mr. Kincade was a different kind of dangerous. I couldn’t let my guard slip. Not around him.

I inhaled deeply, fingers curling around the pendant. It felt heavier today, a reminder I didn’t want. I’d thought I could stay invisible here. Start over. But Mr. Kincade peeled back my defenses with a look. A question. A silence that said too much.

What if he stepped closer? What if his eyes lingered, pulling me in, daring me to surrender?

His intensity should terrify me. He was the kind of man who could destroy a life with a single command. And yet an ache stirred inside me.

He could destroy me.

He had power. The kind that didn’t bend rules but rewrote them. The kind that could unearth secrets I’d spent years burying.

I can’t let that happen.

His attention had caught on my necklace. He was suspicious. And I couldn’t let him get close. Not now. Not ever. Too much was at stake.

My life. My freedom.

I shook my head hard, trying to push the thought away. I couldn’t afford distractions. Especially not him. If I stayed focused, if I locked everything down, I could survive this.

I drew in a few steadying breaths, then pushed off the shelves, my fingers brushing my blouse. No more spiraling. No more dwelling.

There was work to do. Survival came first. It always had.

***

DANTE

I stepped out of my office, surveying the floor of my new domain. The energy buzzed, a testament to the company’s success. As I moved through the departments, the steady hum of work shifted into hushed whispers.

Employees straightened in their seats, eyes flicking toward me. The evening’s celebration of my acquisition still clung to the air. I shoved the thought aside. The party would be a waste of time.

Passing through marketing and product development, I exchanged brief words with department heads, taking in the creative energy around me. I always made a point to know my team. I analyzed strengths, weaknesses, patterns.

Near the administration offices, I spotted Tori. She stiffened as a coworker knocked over a stack of papers that scattered across the floor.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the woman said, her smile anything but sincere. “You’ll have to alphabetize these again.”

Tori knelt, gathering the mess. I said nothing. Just watched. Then I kept walking, but my mind circled back to her.

That necklace didn’t fit her. Didn’t match the way she carried herself. Money? Connections? No way that came from a clearance bin.

Finishing my rounds, I stopped by the windows overlooking the break room. Tori sat alone, unwrapping her lunch. A male coworker approached, his sneer unmistakable. My jaw tightened as he tipped his coffee over her food, smirking as he walked away.

She froze, staring at the ruined meal, then shoved it into the trash. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t speak. Then she left, her face unreadable.

The image stuck with me. She should’ve fought back. Said something. Instead, she took it. So different from the defiant woman I expected her to be.

Back in my office, I picked up the phone. “Get me Thompson.”

Moments later, my private investigator answered.

“I need a background check on Victoria Valencia, an entry-level employee. Something doesn’t add up. I want everything. Background, connections, finances. You’ve got twenty-four hours.”

“Understood, Mr. Kincade.”

I ended the call and leaned back in my chair, turning over the inconsistencies. A rare diamond necklace didn’t belong to someone barely scraping by. A corporate spy? Possible. But something about it felt off.

Who the hell are you, Victoria Valencia?

If anyone had insight, it would be her supervisor. I straightened and pressed the intercom. “Send in Mrs. Wilkins.”

A few minutes later, she walked in, posture stiff. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Kincade?”

“Yes. Tell me about Victoria Valencia. How’s her performance?”

“She’s an excellent employee,” she said, taking a seat. “Always ahead of schedule. Quiet. Keeps to herself.”

I leaned forward. “Anything unusual?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No, sir. Just private. She does her job well. Doesn’t socialize.”

“Is she attending the event tonight?”

“No. She works a second job on Fridays and Saturdays.”

My frown deepened. A second job would explain the modest clothes. But the necklace … it doesn’t fit.

“Thank you, Mrs. Wilkins. That’ll be all.”

As she left, curiosity tightened its grip on me. The more I learned, the more questions I had. Frustration simmered beneath the surface, tangled with something else.

She unsettles me. Her eyes hold secrets.

And I intended to uncover every single one.

***

DANTE

The ballroom shimmered under the chandeliers, elegance woven into every detail. Polished tables, gleaming glassware, effortless luxury. A success, no doubt. Right now, I didn’t give a shit.

Whispers stirred around me. My name murmured here and there, but another one threaded through the conversations. Tori.

Curious glances led my gaze to her.

I froze.

Tori moved with quiet confidence. A fitted skirt hugged her frame, a crisp blouse tucked into a sharp-cut blazer. I hadn’t noticed the woman beneath the layers before, not when she drowned herself in baggy clothes. But now? Now, she was impossible to ignore.

The click of her red-soled Louboutins against the floor sent a pulse of frustration through me. Expensive shoes on an entry-level salary. Another inconsistency I couldn’t ignore. Does she always dress like this outside of work? Why the hell do I care?

My jaw clenched. She had my full attention. From the looks of it, I wasn’t the only one watching.

A troubling thought slithered in. Does she have a sugar daddy?

A woman like Tori, reserved but striking when she wanted to be, could turn heads. She could attract the wrong kind of men. The thought soured in my gut. I had no right to care. But damn it, I did.

Movement near the back of the room caught my eye.

Derek.

The bastard had cornered her, his body angling too close. I was already moving before I fully registered the shift in her stance. The way her fingers twitched said enough.

Then his voice cut through the low hum of the room.

“Let’s find somewhere more private. Bet you taste even sweeter than you look.”

A sharp, visceral rage locked my muscles.

Tori stilled. I saw it. She forced a steady breath, controlling the revulsion tightening her frame.

His smirk widened. His hand landed on her waist, fingers pressing in.

A flashfire lit beneath my skin, fast and impossible to contain. Every instinct screamed to tear his hand off her, to make sure he never touched her, or any woman, like that again.

Derek thought he had the upper hand.

He was about to learn just how wrong he was.