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“Nosey Nelly?” I ask.

“The office gossip.”

“Right,” I say, rolling my lips to hide my amusement.

“When he told me the contents were confidential and not for my eyes, I normally wouldn’t have looked, but …” She winces and squirms slightly in her seat.

“But you did,” I say, loving that her long story short is anything but.

“I wasn’t going to at first, but on the way to reception, I passed the ladies’ restroom. I’m nothing like Nelly,” she insists, before continuing. “But I ducked inside and had a quick peek. I wasn’t sure what I was going to find, but when I saw what was in that file, I knew I was holding something he wouldn’t want anyone else to see. These were the kind of things he should’ve been filing, not shredding. The amounts on some of the invoices were crazy, and I knew it was something I could use against him if push came to shove.”

Something akin to hope rises inside me. Is the woman of my dreams holding the answers to all my problems in her hands?

“I left the restroom and went straight to the copy room. I took the contents out of the folder and hid them underneath one of the cupboards. Then I grabbed a pile of misprints from beside the printer, shoved them into the folder and took it to reception. I shredded those instead.”

“What did you do with the papers you hid?”

“It was the same day you sent me roses. The card you attached was very sweet, by the way.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“As I was leaving that afternoon, I slipped back into the copy room, put the paperwork in an envelope, slid it under my blouse and down the front of my slacks, then hugged the flowers to my chest to disguise the lump and walked out of the building.”

“You stole them?”

She straightens in her seat. “In good faith. I thought it was for leverage, but now I know it was divine intervention. It was to help you bring those bastards down.” She stands and holds out the envelope to me. “I hope these help.”

My eyes are locked on hers as I take the envelope from her hand. My fingers shake slightly as I do. I flip open the flap and practically rejoice when I see what’s inside.

Copies of invoices, payment records and contracts spill across my desk. My eyes scan the first few pages on top, and my pulse kicks up a notch. I shuffle through the pile and see invoices for payments to companies for amounts that make no fucking sense. Names I recognise from what Spencer has already uncovered. Signatures, dates, account details, and transaction references tie everything together. It’s a treasure trove, which will give Spencer leads on where to dig next. It’s the solid proof we’ve been looking for.

“Is any of it helpful?” she asks.

I glance up at Rose, barely able to believe she’s just handed me something that could finally bring Victor Langley and his family down. “If you didn’t hate me, I’d fucking kiss you right now.” My gaze drops to her plump lips.

A pretty pink blush spreads across her cheeks, but she doesn’t look away. “I don’t hate you,” she admits. “I tried … like really, really hard, but unfortunately, I failed.”

That’s not a no.

I arch a brow. “Can I kiss you then?” It’s a cheeky question, but I’m not about to let this moment pass. I’ve been thinking about those lips ever since the last time I tasted them, and right now, I’m desperate to do it again.

She clears her throat, nervously runs her hands down the front of her dress, and tilts her chin slightly. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr Kingsley.”

With that, she turns and leaves the room, and my eyes stay glued to that magnificent arse of hers the entire way.

Chapter 12

Rose

“To the woman of the hour,” Bronson says as the rest of the party hold their glasses in the air, tipping them towards me. My cheeks heat because I’m hardly a hero for what I did. I simply stumbled across a missing puzzle piece that helped them put the rest of the sordid picture together.

It’s been two weeks since I dumped the contents of that envelope on Bronson’s desk, and he’s been working closely alongside Spencer Prescott every day since.

What I handed over was enough to give them the leads they needed to dig deeper and a trail to follow. Yesterday, they took everything they’d uncovered to the police, and it turned out to be far more extensive than any of us had imagined.

We got word earlier today that Sir Hands-a-Lot, his stepfather, and a couple of their shady associates had been arrested. Bronson thinks they’ll be out on bail in a few days, but there’s already enough evidence to put them behind bars for a long time, and Spencer’s still digging.

Looking around the table at Bronson, Violet, Callum, Spencer and his wife Delilah, who’s heavily pregnant with their third child, I can’t help but smile. It’s strange how quickly things have changed. A few weeks ago, I didn’t know these people, and now I consider them friends. Somehow, without even realising, I’ve found a place where I fit in, and I didn’t appreciate how much I needed that until now.