Chapter 9 Answers and Jokes

Sienna’s POV

Lunch came and went. Fast. That salmon wasn’t salmoning the way she needed it to, and the iced coffee she grabbed afterward was already halfway warm and watery. But that’s okay. She had fire in her belly. The kind that only came from chasing truth and smelling bullsh*t from a mile away.

Back in her office, Trevor was already in his chair, eyes darting across three different screens like he was hacking into the Pentagon.

“Okay, Sienna, you ready for this?” he said without even looking at her.

“Trevor, I was born ready. What you got?”

He grinned and tapped his keyboard. “Boom. Two more locations. Same withdrawal pattern. Same amount. Same fake-ass signatures. Tell me we’re not geniuses.”

Sienna blinked. “We’re not geniuses,” she deadpanned.

Trevor gasped like she slapped him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a genius,” she corrected, lifting her hand for a high five. “I’m a goddamn legend.”

Trevor cracked up. “Okay, bet. I thought I was amazing, but you, YOU are AH-mazing.”

“I know,” she said, all smug and sparkly. “Now help me package this like a Michelin-star appetizer so I can send it over to Knox.”

Ten minutes later, a clean, tight email was sailing through cyberspace with all the attachments, folders, and P*F receipts looking pretty.

TO: Knox A.

RE: Possible Fraud—Update

She leaned back, stretched, and took a swig of her now disgustingly lukewarm coffee. Moments later, the reply came in.

FROM: Knox A.

RE: Come to my office. Bring all your info. Now.

Sienna rolled her eyes but smiled. Bossy as always.

She typed:

Should I bring Trevor too?

Knox:

No. Just you.

“Of course. Just me,” she muttered under her breath.

She printed the docs, clipped them nice and neat, and slipped them into her sleek leather binder. Then she slid on her heels like armor and walked toward the lion’s den.

Angela, the receptionist from hell, was sitting at the front desk like she owned the entire building.

“Oh look,” Angela whispered with her usual dry sarcasm, “Frumpy’s back again.”

Sienna didn’t even flinch. Didn't even break her stride. She let Angela talk. People like her were always loud until it was time to say it to your face.

She reached Knox’s door and knocked without warning Angela. Because she wasn’t about that "wait for permission" life.

“Come in,” his voice called.

She stepped inside, and there he was.

Looking like sin in daylight.

Fitted white tee that hugged his chest like a second skin. Ferragamo belt that screamed, “Yes, I care about details.” Jordan 3 retros looking crispy straight out the box. His chain was subtle, not flashy, just enough glint to catch the light when he turned. And that cologne? Lord. She didn’t even need to ask, Ferragamo, for sure. He was glowing, glistening, bearded perfection dipped in chocolate and confidence.

But she blinked it all away. Because she knew better. He was the type of man who looked like a dream but came with fine print and warnings.

“Here,” she said, handing over the paperwork.

“Have a seat.”

She sat, crossing one leg over the other, all business.

He flipped through the papers. “Explain.”

She did, breaking it all down like a crime scene in slow motion. Every connection. Every withdrawal. Every suspicious trail. By the time she was done, he was nodding slowly.

“We’ll just do one more double-check. If the numbers hold, we can go for warrants on each location and surrounding areas.”

He looked up, impressed. “This is excellent work. I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad my grandfather recommended you.”

She softened. “Thank you. Your grandfather is a sweetie pie.”

He chuckled. “Sweetie pie? That man’s a stick in the mud with us.”

“Really?” she blinked. “He’s always been amazing. He and your grandma used to come to our house all the time. We had so much fun. I’m sorry about her, by the way, I know she was sick for a while but doing much better.”

“Yeah… thanks.”

“He still comes over sometimes. Eats with us.”

Knox raised a brow. “He doesn’t even come to my parents’ house.”

She shrugged. “I know. He told us. He said he doesn’t visit either of his sons.”

There was a pause. He looked at her, eyes narrowing slightly. “So… you spend more time with my grandfather than we do?”

“Guess so,” she replied. “He’s good friends with my grandparents, on my dad’s side. They weren’t as… uh, affluent as y’all. But they were close.”

“I’m surprised I don’t remember you,” he said slowly.

“We were kids. You came to the house once, I think. I was chubbier back then. Still wore glasses.”

His eyes sparked. “Wait… you had a baby sister and a brother, right?”

“Exactly.”

“How are they?”

“My brother’s in college. Joined a frat last year and now they won’t leave my house. It’s like I pledged.”

“Why your house?”

“We’re roommates.”

He blinked. “You live with your brother?”

“Yeah. Got a three-bedroom townhome. He begged me to let him move in. I laid out the terms from rent, cleaning, and groceries. He agreed. Now I’m basically house mother to a bunch of grown toddlers in varsity jackets.”

“And your sister?”

“Still living with my parents. She’s only seventeen.”

He chuckled. “Ah, teenage sisters. I remember those days. Mine used to drive me up a wall.”

Sienna smiled. “Mine’s a sweetheart. Doesn’t do much social media. She’s quiet, statuesque, beautiful. If she was older, you’d probably try to date her.”

He stared at her. “What kind of women do I date?”

She blinked. “I*******m models. Real models. Socialites. Women with long legs and short resumes.”

“Oh. So I don’t date women with brains?”

“You said it. I didn’t.”

He laughed, low and deep. “Wow.”

She stood. “I’m gonna finish up before I leave. Got an early day tomorrow.”

“Where are you going?”

“Aurora outlet mall.”

“Oh yeah? Better get there early. You know how it gets.”

“I know. Gonna hit up the MAC store, Lord & Taylor, get some new clothes, shoes… make it worth the trip.”

“You going alone?”

“Nope. With my best friend Mya and my goddaughter, Sofia.”

“Nice. Well, have fun.”

“You too,” she said, heading toward the door. “Hot date?”

“Nope. Just hanging out with my boy, my brother Kole, Jonathan... ”

“The Bulls player?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, and Silas.”

“Nice crew,” she nodded.

“Boxing match and then a club.”

“Sounds fun. I’m going home to take off this great ensemble, hop in the shower, pour some Stella Rosa Black, and not cook a damn thing.”

He made a face. “You drink that cheap sh*t?”

Sienna gasped, hand to chest. “How dare you? It is ten dollars of pure joy.”

He laughed. “My bad. My bad.”

“Exactly. Gonna wash my face, get in my comfy pajamas, put my hair up, eat good food, and pray the frat house hasn’t taken over by the time I get home.”

“Godspeed,” he grinned. “I hope not either.”

She turned, hand on the door. “Have a good weekend.”

“You too… sis.”

She paused. “Did you just call me sis?”

“Well… everybody else calls you sis.”

“I’m not your sister.”

“I know that,” he smirked.

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “See you Monday.”

“Can’t wait.”