Page 50 of Bene

A desktop on the other.

In the middle, a pile of folders.

Windows across from the desk overlooked the entire front of the property, giving the man who sat behind the desk a good view of anyone coming near his home. She doubted that was done in error, but rather, purposefully.

Vanna took a single step in the room, hitting the home button on her phone to turn it on before typing in the passcode. It took no time at all for her to get the camera running on her phone as she crossed the space, and went to the desk first.

Surprise.

The drawers all had locks.

And they weren’t budging.

She focused on the folders instead, flipping the first couple on top open to look inside. She didn’t really understand what stared back at her, except it was something about a maple syrup farm, and the fact that it made a lot of money.

But why the off-shore accounts?

Because those documents were right underneath.

Attached to the farm.

She could clearly see deposits into the accounts on the paperwork, too, and not ones that came from the farm. It looked more like transfers from other accounts. Like someone was using the maple syrup farm to hide other cash flows.

It took her a second.

Money laundering.

And wire fraud.

Vanna started snapping pictures.

She’d send them off once she left.

The office was a fucking gold mine. Surely, she could do something with this. Especially, if it was exactly what she thought it was.

Only time would tell.

“Where have you been all weekend?”

Vanna’s head snapped up, gaze darting to the end of the hallway instead of the phone in her hand that had taken her attention while she headed up to her penthouse. She’d been distracted, replying to Bene’s text in one window asking if she got up to her place safely—he’d driven her home, but she promised she was fine to head up alone, even though he offered.

In the other text chat, her contact asked if she thought she would be able to get inside the Guzzi mansion again for another round of her spying. According to his message, he needed more info on the maple syrup business to hand over before he could guarantee anything would come out of her findings.

Fucking perfect.

Fuck her whole life today. Because in her distraction, she totally missed the man waiting at her front door looking like he had been standing there for way too long. Damn, he probably did, too, knowing him. Had his car been parked downstairs? Because she missed that, too.

Mario gave her a look when she didn’t answer right away. “Well?”

“Quebec,” she lied.

She didn’t even know why she said that.

Just did.

It was the first thought to pop into her head, and apparently, she was too fucking stupid from spending the weekend under a gorgeous man that knew how to play her body like nothing else to care about thinking up a good lie for Mario when she returned home. This had been inevitable, and even she knew that.

This asshole was too attached.