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Emerson groaned and Kendra chuckled.
“Pulling up his security feed…” said Tegan. “Oh shit.”
Kendra and Emerson joined her, standing behind her office chair.
“Holy crap,” gasped Tegan. “I mean, at least I can see why he thought it might be you.”
“But it isn’t,” said Kendra, looking more closely. “T, back it up.”
They waited until Tegan had rewound the recording.
“There,” Emerson said, pointing to the monitor.
They watched in silence as a figure moved through Viktor’s study, carefully removing the Fabergé egg from its display.
“That’s not me,” Emerson said, her voice shaking with relief and anger.
Tegan paused the video, zooming in on the figure. “Let’s take a closer look. There has to be something that Viktor missed.”
They scrutinized the video, frame by frame. The woman in the footage was wearing a hoodie—Emerson’s hoodie—it obscured most of her features, but there was something familiar about her movements. Emerson’s heart pounded as she leaned closer to the screen.
“Wait,” she said, pointing. “Rewind it again, focus on the glass case.”
Tegan rewound the footage, and they all stared at the case. The thief’s face was reflected in the glass. Tegan’s fingers flew across the keyboard as she closed in on and sharpened the features of the face revealed. Emerson recognized her immediately.
“It’s the housekeeper. Viktor’s housekeeper, Agata,” Emerson whispered, a mix of relief and fury flooding her. “I’d recognize that bitch’s face anywhere.”
Kendra’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” Emerson replied. “She’s been with Viktor for years. He’d never suspect her, especially if she dressed in my clothes, which, by the way, is creepy.”
Tegan quickly saved a copy of the footage, then shut down her laptop. “You have to show this to Viktor. He needs to know the truth.”
Emerson nodded, her resolve hardening. “He will. And the sonofabitch is going to be the one on his knees, begging me to forgive him for doubting me.”
Emerson changed into jeans and a sweater, tucking the jeans into a pair of cowboy boots.
“Viktor is going to hate that outfit,” said Kendra with a smile.
“I know, now ask me if I care,” Emerson said, taking the thumb drive Tegan handed her.
Emerson drove her truck to the Carriage House, the video evidence on the flash drive, tucked safely into her bra. She punched the code into the keypad for the private elevator. As the door opened, Agata, unaware of the evidence tucked inside Emerson’s bra, looked surprised to see her, but covered quickly with a polite smile.
“Hello, Ms. Ravenel. I don’t believe Viktor is expecting you.”
Emerson forced a smile. “Maybe not, but I believe you’ll find he’ll want to see me.”
“Agata?” he said, coming out from the bedroom. He looked past her to see Emerson. At first his expression softened, then a dark mask fell over his features.
Emerson dropped to her knees, deciding he was already dangerously close to losing control—control that was essential to his well-being. She bowed her head, her ponytail falling over one shoulder as she placed her hands on her thighs, palms up. Viktor stood in front of her. All she could see were his boots and even they were sexy.
“You punched me,” he said softly.
“I will call the police, Mr. Romanov,” said Agata.
“May I speak, Master?” she said, realizing how much she’d missed him even in the few hours she’d been furious with him.
“Now you’re going to obey me? Eyes up here, Emerson.”
