Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Addison and Hudson pull up at the same time, and as Addie bails out of his car, I hear her laughing about Riley’s conversation with Zoe. Apparently he managed not to screw it up and has been talking to her all night.
“What are you doing out here?” Addison asks, walking up to the front door with me. “I thought you guys left ages ago.”
“Oh yeah,” I smile. “I umm, I just wanted to check in on my mom.”
“Really?” she questions, pushing the door open. “I thought you kinda hated your mom.”
Not knowing how to respond, I just give her a tight smile before walking in behind them and bailing straight up the stairs, hoping to God Tanner has wrapped things up with his mom. I make my way down the hall and gently knock on his door before pushing it open.
Tanner sits on the edge of his bed, his elbows braced against his knees as he hangs his head. He glances up and his brows furrow. “What are you doing here?” he questions. “I thought you were sleeping in the devil’s lair.”
“Yeah, I was,” I murmur, stepping into him as he takes my waist, “but I ran into Mom and we talked. She thinks it’s best I sleep here. You know, in case Orlando decides to take a stroll into my room in the middle of the night.”
His brow arches as he looks up at me. “I’d kill him.”
“I don’t doubt that,” I tell him.
“You spoke to your mom?”
“Mmhmm,” I mumble.
“You wanna talk about it?”
I shake my head. “You wanna talk about the discussion with your mom?”
“Fuck no,” he says. “I’d rather gouge my eyes out with a rusty fork.”
I give him a beaming smile. “Good,” I say, kicking my shoes off and climbing into his bed. “Then we agree.” And with that, he scoots in beside me, pulls me into his warm arms, and holds me tight, both of us ready to put tonight behind us.
Chapter 31
BRIELLE
Okay, so maybe the black hoodie and tights were overkill, but what else was I supposed to wear to break into Orlando’s office? If I’m going to live the criminal lifestyle, I might as well dress the part, right? Though I have to admit, I kind of hoped that getting through the door and past security would be a little more challenging. I mean, damn, I didn’t even get an adrenaline rush. The code to disable the security system is exactly the same code that he uses at home. Where’s the fun in that?
My gaze wanders around his ridiculously big office space as I walk deeper through the foyer. This place is definitely way more than what he needs, but men like Orlando are all about comparing the size of their dicks. They have to have the biggest and the best to compensate for the fact that he ain’t shit.
There’s an extravagant reception area with a few chairs set out for clients to wait, and as I walk past the foyer and into the main part of the office, I find ten separate offices, all separated by glass panels with their own little secretary desk right outside the door. It looks like a scene out of Suits, though Orlando can only dream about being that successful.
There’s one massive office at the end, and I press my lips into a tight line.
Bingo.
I make my way into his office and shake my head as I take it all in. Extravagant doesn’t even begin to cover it. There are two separate lounge suites, an attached conference room, a bar, and of course his desk is surrounded by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. I suppose this is what you get for being one of the top lawyers in the country.
It’s a shame I’m about to fuck that up for him.
Not wanting to be here any longer than necessary, I start hunting, his office becoming my playground. I go straight for his desk and power on his computer, and as it does its thing, I start digging through the drawers, yanking them open and quickly rifling through them. Only there’s nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that’s going to give me what I’m looking for. But why would it? Orlando wouldn’t be so stupid as to leave shit like that laying around for anyone to find. Especially with the kind of people he’s been dealing with.
I search the desk from top to bottom, even going as far as to make sure there are no hidden compartments. When I find absolutely nothing, I move onto the computer, only to be hit with a six-digit passcode. “Well fuck,” I mutter, staring at the blank screen.
What the hell could it be?
I start to type in Mom and Orlando’s wedding date and get halfway before I hit delete. It’s definitely not that. He doesn’t care for Mom enough to have it as a passcode. Hell, I bet he doesn’t even remember what the date was. But what else could it be? Jensen’s birthday? The number of cases where he’s narrowly escaped the law? Fuck, who knows?