The Love Of Money - S02 E194

Story 1 month ago

The Love Of Money - S02 E194

Read Story: SEASON 2 EPISODE 194

Friday, September 27th, 8:20 pm

It’s amazing how fast the weather can turn. One moment you’re enjoying a mild fall afternoon; the next, the sky’s threatening to dump a small ocean on your head.

It felt like a metaphor.

The air had chilled since the last time I was up here, lying in a hammock with Charity. I pulled my sweatshirt hood over my head and sank deeper into the outdoor couch. The retractable awning was already out—my only shield against the storm rolling in.

I rolled the beer bottle between my palms, my mind drifting over everything that had just happened. Reynolds. Bobbi. Desai’s murder. Ryo Tanaka. And the possibility that someone inside my own house was working against me.

Someone had planted something in Erin’s office for Reynolds to find. Or… Reynolds simply had it and claimed he found it in the search.

It was one of the only explanations that made sense, wasn’t it? Nothing else made sense.

I couldn’t suspect Erin—not realistically. She’d been the one to tell me Reynolds found it. Why would she report something she planted?

Besides, if I started doubting Erin, who else did I have left? I trusted her more than almost anyone—maybe more than anyone except Emily.

No. Suspecting my own inner circle was the last thing I wanted to do. At least… without good fucking reason.

On the other hand, that was exactly the sort of mistake that got powerful people killed.

Who else had access to Erin’s office?

Me. Helen.

That was it.

Jessica crossed my mind, but Erin would’ve skinned her alive for touching anything in that space. My assistant was territorial about her office—nobody touched it except me or Helen. Even then, she cringed if we moved things around too much.

“Hey.”

I peered out from under my hood. Chloe approached, carrying a six-pack of assorted beers.

“Hey,” I said.

She nodded at the beer bottle in my hand. “Heard you came up with only one. Thought you could use more.”

“Bless you.”

Chloe.

That was another person with access to Erin’s study. But suspecting her felt about as ridiculous as suspecting Erin.

My bodyguard plucked out a bottle, did some sleight-of-hand trick I didn’t quite catch, and the metal cap pinged across the rooftop. She handed me the fresh beer; I took it gratefully.

She opened one for herself, repeating the move, and sat beside me with that effortless, predatory grace of hers.

“How’s the footage?” I asked.

Chloe took a long drink. “It’s a slog.”

I stared at the rooftop as the first small droplets began to darken the surface.

“That one camera in the hallway is the only legitimate way we have to see who’s been in Erin’s office,” she said. “Sure would’ve been nice to have one inside.”

My lips pressed into a thin line. The implication wasn’t wrong.

Early in my transition from plebeian to one of the richest men alive, I’d pushed back hard on some of Chloe’s security recommendations, like installing cameras in certain private rooms. Bedrooms. Bathrooms. My study. Erin’s office. She tried to insist, but I was the boss. Now, trying to figure out who the fuck tampered with Erin’s office, I regretted choosing privacy over security.

“How far have you gotten?”

Thunder rolled through the sky like some massive animal’s low growl.

“We started with today’s camera recordings,” Chloe said. “When I left, they were already back to September fifth.”

“Huh,” I murmured. “Back in a simpler time.”

“You’re not wrong,” she said.

We were still in Scotland then—just before Astrid reached out about Tanaka. It felt like years ago, not weeks.

“I think I’d rather be back in that forest than dealing with all this,” I said.

Chloe snorted.

“You don’t agree?” I asked.

“Fuck no.” She took another sip, then gave me that hard, unreadable look of hers… except around the eyes, where something faint—possibly amusement—flickered.

I was beginning to think I might finally be cracking the code of Chloe Tanner.

Lightning flashed through the clouds. The rain came down harder. I hugged my knees to my chest and watched the storm bloom.

“Come on,” I said, resting my chin on my knees. “It wasn’t all bad. Even you have to admit that.”

“I don’t have to admit shit.”

I grinned. God, I missed talking to her like this.

“Then why did you do it?”

Chloe side-eyed me. “Do what?”

“The other night. The closet.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Upton.”

She stared into the rain for a long beat. Then she glanced the other way—checking for anyone else nearby.