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“What makes you think I’d share that information with the heir who’s leaving the Crowes?” he asked as the doors began to close. “Do your job, Manic, and make her comply or I’ll rethink our deal. I’ll call for you when the meeting is set.”

I trembled and stared at the closed elevator doors, seconds from losing my shit. Or killing someone. He was punishing me because I wanted to leave. Did he forget what I did for him?

I turned sharply, exiting the hallway when Axell and Vince came into view. They leaned against the kitchen island, both straightening their postures when I rounded the corner.

“Get out,” I demanded. “Both of you can man the elevator in the garage. I won’t be needing you here.”

“Boss?” Vince asked, forehead wrinkling.

“Message me if you need something,” Axell said, throwing Vince a sidelong glance with a head shake. Vince wisely closed his mouth, and they turned for the exit.

Quickly ascending the stairs, I stepped into my workspace and exhaled. Even though it overlooked the penthouse, the space was dark except for the sconces on the back wall near the mounted TV’s. Fading afternoon light leaked beyond the glass railing. The air hummed faintly, my computers and cooling fans running constantly beneath the silence.

Without conscious effort, I settled in my chair and four large computer monitors came to life.

One showed a camera feed that alternated different parts of Vancouver and our warehouses. Another was solely set for Sutton and all the places she’d frequented. I wouldn’t need that one for a while, and now that she was here, I switched the screen to the penthouse cameras.

Her room popped up and an unfamiliar warmth settled over me when she came into view. She sat on the bed, knees drawn to her chest, and blankly stared at the doors. If it weren’t for my annoyance with my father, I might have wondered why my chest became unbearably tight.

I cursed under my breath and withdrew my gaze to focus on the third and fourth screens. Maps, data, and live footage.

With a long inhale, I got to work.

The keyboard clicked angrily beneath my fingers, and a faint heat radiated from the monitors as I sifted through systems and files. The rest of the displays faded as I toggled the feeds and data before me, typing in an excessive amount of code.

Normal people would be worried about hacking into mafia files—my father’s, especially—but I wasn’t worried. I covered my trails and didn’t alter things, only staying long enough to get the information I needed before logging off.

Two hours went by before I was able to hack into my father's system. After scouring hundreds of files, Sutton’s name finally appeared. I hovered the mouse over her folder, then clicked on it. Her image overtook my screen, her hazel eyes blazing like a flame on a torchlight. Although digital, the sight of her still sent my pulse spiking, her plump lips reminding me exactly what she felt like hours earlier.

And yet, there was nothing in her file that told me what my father had. Local authorities, too.

It was clean. Way too fucking clean.

Pristine, actually.

Not an ounce of incriminating information stared back at me which meant my father had physical files. Hard evidence he was waiting to use if what he said was true. So, unless I snuck into his personal office or begged Sutton to share what she was hiding, I wouldn’t be able to discover what it was.

And that really pissed me off.

The edges of my vision clouded, and I clenched my hands until my knuckles screamed. I really wanted to hit something. Instead, I forced a breath and pulled the cigarette from behind my ear, placing it between my lips.

Just as I went to light it, I swiveled back to the cameras in Sutton’s room and immediately froze, my hand stilling over the mouse. My stomach twisted.

She wasn’t in her room, and her door was open.

Axell couldn’t have locked her door, because only my fingerprint could access it. I also had an app on my phone that controlled its lock, but they didn’t have that either. And I’d sent my security away just hours ago. Shit.

I quickly scanned each room of the penthouse until I landed on the kitchen, and a smile ghosted my lips. Carefully rolling my chair back, I quietly descended the stairs and entered the kitchen.

Sutton was bent over with the fridge door wide open, and the quiet scraping of glass drawers graced the air. I leaned against the island, tucked my cigarette back behind my ear, and folded my arms while I stared at her ass.

She moved carefully, as if determined to remain quiet, hips swaying as she dug through a drawer. My cock throbbed, because all I wanted was to keep her bent over until she was screaming my name. The sound of her pleasure from earlier had me grappling for control, and so I pushed the thought aside. I might revisit it later, preferably in the shower.

I lifted a brow, a cool smile on my face.

If Sutton was digging around my fridge, she either didn’t realize I sent Axell and Vince away, or she deliberately decided not to run. Progress.

“Seriously? All this money,” she mumbled to herself, “and no food?”