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I perched on the edge of a mahogany desk, yanking the file from its makeshift hiding spot in my dress. Diego leaned over my shoulder as I flipped it open.
Documents spilled across the file—dense blocks of text, surveillance logs, blurred photographs taken from too far away. But my gaze locked onto the list of names,inked in precise black letters, most of them redacted into nothingness.
Except one.
One face stood out, unredacted and unmistakable.
A sharp jolt shot through me. I knew that face.
It wasn’t just familiar—it was important. A puzzle piece I hadn’t even realized was missing until now.
I swallowed hard, reaching into my clutch for my phone.
Diego arched a brow. “We’re committing a felony now?”
I gave him a sharp look. “We’re documenting.”
He sighed, but he didn’t stop me.
I snapped photo after photo, making sure I got everything—names, addresses, timestamps, every tiny detail I could grab before we had to get rid of the evidence.
Once I was done, I tucked my phone away and exhaled.
“Now,” Diego said, crossing his arms, “we put it back?”
I hesitated. “Or stash it somewhere.”
He frowned. “Claire.”
Diego’s gaze flicked to the file in my hands, then back to me, his brows knitting together. “You do realize he saw you take that, right? You just told me he did.”
I exhaled sharply. “He saw me pick it up—he said as much. But maybe he doesn’t realize I actually took it.”
Diego scoffed. “Oh, come on, Claire. You were in a room alone with him, and you just casually plucked a classified-looking file off his shelf while he was still recovering from—” He gestured vaguely. “Whatever the hell happened in there. There’s no way he missed that.”
I chewed the inside of my cheek. He wasn’t wrong.Marcus was too sharp, too calculating to have overlooked something like that. Which meant …
“He let me take it,” I murmured.
Diego tilted his head. “Or he wanted you to take it.”
I lifted a hand. “Just hear me out. If I put it back exactly where I found it, Marcus knows I saw it. He’ll know I read it, he’ll know I took something from it. But if we leave it somewhere else—somewhere discreet, somewhere he can find it later—then maybe he wonders. I want him to wonder.”
Diego let out a low whistle. “Damn, you’re ruthless.”
I smirked. “You knew that already.”
His eyes gleamed with something sharp. “Okay, fine. So where are we stashing it?”
I tapped the file against my palm, considering. “Somewhere close enough for him to find, but far enough away that it doesn’t look deliberate.” My lips curled. “And we make sure he sees me with it first.”
Diego grinned, shaking his head. “Claire Dixon, playing mind games with a Dane? God help us all.”
16
MARCUS
Ilet her have the file. Of course, I did. Watched her snatch it off the shelf in that underground lair, her fingers quick and sure, like she was born to steal secrets.