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Dropping back in his seat, he tilts my screen so he can see it too.
“This whole time it’s been right here.” I pull up our records and the Fairfax Capital log.
“What am I looking at?”
“They’re not cleaning money.” I can’t believe I’ve missed this. I can’t believe that I’ve been so fucking slow and stupid. “They’re payments. He’s using the same method as us.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Who would the Russians want to pay off?” Francis is as glued to the screen as I am.
I pull up the logs I’ve gone through repeatedly with a nit comb.
“I don’t know, but now that I know this, I can look at it all differently.” I explain to him how I can break down the transactions and with any luck I can trace all the movements to the core.
“Jesus, how did you figure that out now?” Standing up again, he closes my MacBook.
“I don’t know, I was just thinking about setting up the payment and the numbers and tangled lines unscrambled? I guess?”
“You guess?” he laughs, shaking his head. “Get out of here.”
Jumping up, I have to stretch because spending the last three hours hunched over my screen has made my muscles cramp.
I’m about to walk out of the office to find Cassie, but I stop and turn to him. “I need to ask you something.”
He smiles, like he always does. Francis Sinclair is so approachable you’d never believe he’s a killer. He has all the signs that read safe, moral, righteous, rich businessman and none that read, fuck with me and I’ll pulp your brain, or gun for hire.
Shit, he might actually kill me.
“I’d like to take Cassie out.” I say as clearly as possible so that he knows my intention.
“Right.” Sitting on the edge of the desk, he crosses his ankles and tucks his hands into his pockets, narrowing his eyes on me.
He looks casual as can be in his jeans and long sleeve polo, but the way he holds himself is anything but.
“I want to take her on a date.” I tell him and then I add, “Without all the security.”
I can’t believe what I’m asking him because it’s reckless, especially after last night.
But I want her to have all the normal experiences other girls have at her age. I want her to have all these memories to look back on, and I want to be the one that’s in them. I never want her to forget me. No matter what.
“Okay,” Francis nods and then says, “No detail, just Wayne. I’ll tell him to stay at a reasonable distance.
“Wayne?” He’s like my dad.
“Yes.”
“You’re serious…”
“Deadly.” Standing, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Leo?”
My heart hammers in my chest at the way he says my name. “Yes?”
“Don’t make me regret this. If you hurt my girl, I won’t be accountable for what will happen to you.”
&n
bsp; His threat is spoken softly and low, but it’s none-the-less expressive.
“Understood?”
