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Vanessa was the first to help mefeel again. In a way, I felt obligated to help her in return.

Get to work.

I didn’t come here to admire art.

I returned to my desk and searched for Emmanuel Valencia. Then I made some calls to assist in the search.Who wasEmmanuel? Vanessa mentioned he wasn’t like this during their brief relationship. But I knew how people could deceive to achieve a goal. This happened in business all the time.

The fear on her face had dulled her brightness as though a splash of black paint smeared across her vivid red.

After an hour of research, I discovered where he lived, hung out, and worked. I also knew where his younger sister worked. I browsed his social media accounts and noticed his different personalities. There were no images of him and Vanessa.

I also checked Vanessa’s social media posts. She only posted about her artwork. I saved a picture of her and me at the galleryopening. I wasn’t a social media guy, but I created an account on Real Rumors and DailyThoughts and followed her.

Why? I didn’t know.

I returned to Emmanuel’s account and continued browsing. My heart leaped when I spotted a familiar face. Dr. Nico Messina was part of The Trogyn. That was my assumption during my investigation into the crime organization. He came from power and wealth and had attended several parties at underground clubs.

I pulled up Dr. Messina’s file. His High School GPA shouldn’t have allowed him to attend Harvard Medical. His parents probably paid someone for him to attend. He probably paid someone to do all the work for him. Instincts told me to investigate any malpractice lawsuits. There were too many for me to read.

How did he still have a job at Brigham and Women’s Hospital? Why hadn’t these lawsuits been on the news?

My fingers itched. I compiled a few lawsuits, wrote a summary, sent it to Elena, and copied Orion. Musepaper, Elena’s online newspaper, was known for delivering the truth.

My team sent me a file on Emmanuel’s school records. At least his GPA proved he qualified to attend Northeastern University. What was the doctor’s relationship with Emmanuel?

I printed out a picture of him and Emmanuel and tucked it into my back pocket.

I glanced at the clock. Emmanuel should head home from his office job in an hour. I had questions to ask him.

From the files my team sent me about Emmanuel and his sister, I could tell they were close. But he didn’t have any pictures of her on his social media account. Either they had a falling out, or Emmanuel wasn’t the monster he appeared to be. A quick visit to Elegant Cosmetics to snap a photo of his sister would make an interesting conversation with him.

As I drove to visit Thea, I stopped at a set of red lights. A black sports car pulled up next to me, and I recognized a face I hadn’t seen in a long time. Milton Kalkounis was probably on the phone with someone. He had been part of Ashton’s crowd back in high school. Though he wasn’t part of the group who beat me that day, he had created a shitty atmosphere for me and others in high school.

A thrill skated down my spine. He would know where to find Ashton. When the lights turned, I took a detour and followed him. Elegant Cosmetics could wait.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

VANESSA

I didn’t drivemy car because it had a good parking spot in the residents-only area. Finding a parking spot close to my apartment was rare, so I avoided using the car unless it was for grocery shopping or big art supplies. I usually had my large canvases delivered because my silver Honda Civic wouldn’t fit large canvases.

Across the street, an old couple prepared for the oncoming bus. I rushed over, got on, paid, and sat across from the loving couple. Three other people occupied the back of the bus.

His wife appeared more fragile than him.

“Do you want soup? It’s your day, Martha. Tell me where you want to go, and I’ll take you.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Martha leaned into him. “I’m just happy to be out of the hospital.”

He took her hand. “You’re healthy now. So we need to celebrate.” Then he kissed her on the head.

Would I ever find someone who loved me like that? I wished my mom could experience this love too. For some strangereason, I imagined Attikus treating me with love and care like this old man. Could he be that caring?

Why? He’s only your fake husband.

I didn’t know why the thought came into my head. It brought me back to the contract. The no-sex thing was to protect myself from doing something I might regret. That provocative dream of him had set my body ablaze all day. If only he could see my nerves or how wet my panties had been from remembering that dream, he’d probably think twice about having me in his home. The dream was powerful. Even now, my body shivered from remembering his touch.

Having the fine print to state the boundaries would protect both him and me.