Page 53 of Legacy of Deception

“Get out now,” came a voice I knew, sounding rushed, strained.

“Lorenzo?” What did he want?

“You heard me.”

“What?”

“I won’t call security, but you need to get out before you trip an alarm, and they come on their own. Or worse, you trigger an anomalous event on his computer that I can’t ignore.”

I looked around the room for hidden cameras. I hadn’t noticed any. “How do you—”

“Badges swiped after hours log as unauthorized activity in my system. Marco’s in Florida, so the only other person with access to his badge and an axe to grind is you. I’ll give you a full lesson on security another time if you need it, but just get out now,” he said all in under eleven seconds.

His urgency had me feeling an atypical sense of anxiety as I sat at a crossroads. On the one hand, I felt like I should listen to him, but on the other hand, I so desperately didn’t want to. “But—”

“Brooklyn, security will show up, and they won’t be alone. They will come with authorities. Now kindly get the fuck out before it’s too late, and I can’t help you anymore.”

The worst part about it was that Santo had won, and he didn’t even know he was playing this round with me.

Chapter 22

I will not apologize

MARCO

Unbelievable.

Leave it to Brooklyn Briggs to screw with my year’s bingo card, forcing me to take Air Vito from Boca Raton back to New York earlier than I planned because she was back to making her usual messes.

It wasn’t in the least bit surprising she did something this selfish and stupid. I would have chalked it up to us being shoved into the same prison cell as we watched our fathers close the fucking door and take the key with them, but I knew the truth. Brooklyn had always been—and would always be—a reckless screw-up. What befuddled me was how someone who I’d been getting to know better, someone who could be vulnerable and intelligent, was the same person who didn’t think twice about endangering herself or others. As long as it furthered her and her agenda.

If it were physically possible, I would have been severely allergic to unnecessary mistakes that only caused problems and turmoil.

I mean, what had she been thinking?

Apparently, she hadn’t been.

The very last thing I needed was an emergency call from Lorenzo, telling me that my father’s office had been breached, and I better get back to New York as soon as possible. Luckily, Lorenzo and I were tight, and he wasn’t going to share this with our father. Most importantly, he was going to make sure it stayed under wraps. Loosely translated to mean wiped from the company history and data so no one would ever find out.

Of course, he would have questions. Questions he may or may not come to ask me in time. Questions I very well better get some answers to myself.

Hardly breathing, mostly fueled by wrath, I made it to the door of my home, where I knew Brooklyn was on the other side. Hopefully, she wasn’t in bed, sound asleep or some shit, because we had a lot to discuss, and none of it was waiting.

Swinging the door open, not in the slightest bit concerned I could have ripped it from its hinges and really sent it flying, I opened my mouth to shout for Brooklyn. Only, I didn’t need to because she was standing in front of it, as though she had been there the entire time, waiting for me.

An unfamiliar and unwelcome tightness gripped my chest. How was it that she infuriated me beyond belief and yet, concerned me to such an extent it only further ignited the anger inside me?

Wearing some short jean dress with buttons down the front and no shoes, she held her hands together in front of her, her eyelashes fluttering as she stared down at the floor. I wasn’t sure why, considering the gesture held nothing. No information. No ability to transport her back in time, so she didn’t risk—

“What were you thinking?” I hurled my keys across the foyer like they meant nothing, because they didn’t in that exact moment. Nothing meant anything. Only Brooklyn and the situation at hand. “What the hell were you thinking?” My voice dripped with urgency. It might have had something to do with the fact that mentally it felt like the barrel of a gun was aimed at my head and would remain there until I made sense of what had been going through her mind.

She stared up at me, her brown eyes highlighted with the dusting of powder and thick black lines she had framing the underside of them. “I’m sorry,” she declared, her tongue grazing over her bottom lip. Where she moistened it seemed to shine with the dark red paint that coated them. Meanwhile, she took strides forward to initiate the closing of the gap between us.

That wasn’t what I wanted, though. Shooting a hand up, I struck her with a sneer. “Tell me what happened.” It wasn’t that I didn’t want her close to me. Quite the opposite, actually. All I wanted was that. But it would only be a distraction.

Her eyes widened for a brief moment before they narrowed. “I broke into your father’s office.” She had absolutely zero hesitation in stating that fact. She seemed completely nonplussed about it. Like she wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.

Rubbing a hand over my mouth, I grunted. “That much is clear. Do you know how lucky you were? God, Lorenzo saved your life. I mean, really, he did, because if you were found by my father or anyone else on the security team—”