Page 54 of Blind Prophet (The Arrow Tactical #9)
CAROLINE
Five days later
The last week has been a whirlwind of activity.
Geoffrey Cromwell was detained by an Arrow team when he landed in Mexico and was handed over to the FBI.
Working with Nick Ivanov’s team, Interpol, and intelligence agencies from around the world, we’ve been gathering evidence against him.
It’s a challenging task. He had broad access to all of Halston’s accounts, and it’s impossible to know what he did versus what Halston did.
There are no cameras in Halston’s office, and even if there were, unless we had a view of the computer screen, Geoffrey’s presence in Halston’s office proves nothing.
The news has been flooded with recaps of the attacks by a domestic terrorist group on US soil, and the connection to Halston Moore and his unknown financial advisor have been picked up on only detailed, extensive articles covering the event, and even then, all mentions were caveated with words such as “alleged” and “suspected.”
Financial donations and investments through shell companies are being tracked to better understand Cromwell’s connections to extremist groups and foreign governments.
The president informed Dorian that he didn’t believe it was a good time for him to step into the public spotlight, and Dorian agreed. Three other names are currently being rumored for consideration as the next chief of staff.
Geoffrey never distributed the AI-generated video of Dorian accepting the chief of staff position, so there’s no cleanup in that regard, but I’m certain there are law enforcement and intelligence groups investigating Geoffrey’s connections to the president.
The syndicate, a group of men Dorian’s father worked to coalesce, disbanded.
Dorian said that Geoffrey’s attempt to assume a leadership position, posing as his father, awakened the group of industry titans to the weakness in the group’s structure.
None of the sector leaders desired a boss, and yet in the face of chaos, the egalitarian structure proved ineffective.
Dorian doesn’t seem bothered. He says he’ll maintain his relationships during annual conferences and events, and that if he ever needs to lean on any of the members, he’s confident they’ll come through, or at the very least, negotiate a mutually beneficial deal.
He also believes that when the group began working with criminal organizations to maximize global influence, they lost legitimacy, and if not legitimacy, integrity.
Dorian has spent most of the week between Colorado, overseeing the helicopter recovery, and in DC, meeting with senators who were debating opening a congressional investigation.
While he welcomes an inquiry, he doesn’t believe a public inquisition will occur.
He’s convinced that Geoffrey was working with other players who have yet to be uncovered, and he also suspects some of the individuals within the US political sphere are complicit.
He also believes that if the FBI, or any other intelligence agency, uncovers evidence tying Geoffrey to anyone within other countries, they may choose to classify the information, ensuring only those with the highest security clearance will ever know the truth.
Dorian is suspicious of Liam Sullivan because he’s the one who recommended Luke to Arrow Tactical and because he also has connections to Geoffrey Cromwell, but so far, all of those connections appear to be based on frequenting some of the same social clubs.
At this point, the Arrow team believes Liam’s connections are coincidental.
Jack Sullivan informed Ryan that he supported all efforts into the investigation, but that he thinks his brother is innocent, even if he’s too trusting of those he meets and takes a liking to.
The story Liam’s telling is that he met Luke at a bar in Hawaii.
They hit it off, kept in touch, and when he needed work, he recommended him, completely unaware that he had any connections to Geoffrey Cromwell.
And, in truth, there’s nothing in Luke’s background report that would have red-flagged him.
However, we found payments from a shell company to Luke going back years, and I’ve been told they traced the shell company to Geoffrey, which means Luke has been working for Geoffrey since he left the military.
We can’t ever fully know Luke’s motives, but it is conceivable that his motives were entirely monetary.
Dorian
I have some bad news.
It’s Friday evening, and I’m at home, waiting for Dorian’s estimated arrival time so I can pick him up from the airport. A sinking feeling hits, and I’m almost certain I know what he’s going to say.
Me
***
Dorian
Winter storm tracking across the country. It’s looking like I won’t make it in.
There’s no denying the disappointment that knocks my euphoria down a notch.
While this week has been an incredibly busy work week, the regular texts and calls from Dorian have extended a buzz that’s both exhilarating and unnerving.
I suppose it’s fitting that reality would step in to remind me what life is like with a high-profile executive.
Me
Tomorrow?
Dorian
First thing.
Me
Yes, I’m smiling again. Carrying my phone, I walk to the back of the house to change into pajamas. I’d planned on ordering in, depending on what time he got in this evening and what he was in the mood for. I’m not that hungry after snacking at the office. Perhaps I’ll eat cereal.
Me
Any update from Bedrock?
Dorian
It’s been suggested that I step down from the chairman role during the investigation. I plan to comply.
Me
You okay with that?
While the mass media may not have picked up on all the nuances of recent events, those in the financial world are quite aware, and, as Cromwell intended, the reports inflicted damage to the Moore name and reputation.
Dorian
I am. My time has recently become more valuable.
I grin and set the phone down on the bed. I change into a silk chemise and pull on a silk robe, then slip on fuzzy slippers. Maybe I’ll curl up with a good book and a glass of wine.
Light flashes on my phone screen, and I step back to the bed to read the screen.
Dorian
I miss you.
I pick up the phone, smiling from a happiness that emanates from deep within, bursting through with the warmth of the sun on a summer day.
Me
Miss you, too.
I pause, staring at the screen, my finger hovering over the send button. I take a deep breath and type.
Me
I love you.
Dorian
Go to your front door.
I grin and head down the hallway, approaching the front door that opens directly into the living area.
What did he send? Flowers?
He sent flowers this week to the office and to my home address.
The silk chemise I’m wearing is one he sent, along with a small circular framed selfie of us in Boston.
We’d taken the photo right after he proposed, and I said yes.
The photo now sits on my desk at the office, and, while I’ll always treasure the memory, the radiating joy that somehow comes through in our smiles is contagious.
I swing the wooden door open.
“Dorian!”
“Surprise.” He grins, quite pleased with himself.
My heart practically stops, then races to catch up. For a moment, I can’t move, can’t speak—the sight of him standing there hits me with startling intensity.
His hair is slightly ruffled, and there’s a hint of shadow below his eyes, which I’m not surprised by, given the hoops he’s jumped through this week.
He’s in jeans, a button-down, and sneakers that fit with a suit, the kind that are all the rage with the tech world these days.
He’s gorgeous, but it’s the heat in his eyes, a raw hunger, that has me entranced.
His gaze tracks from my face, down my body, and to the robe fallen open to my sides.
“That’s what you wear to open the door?”
His near growl amps up the tension to a tangible, viscous level.
He steps forward, and I step back. He wheels in a large suitcase and kicks the door shut.
“Fuck, Cara.” He grabs me and pulls me against him, pressing his lips to mine, his tongue in my mouth, ravenous. His hands slide over my back, gliding over the silk, and lower, around my curves, until he can go no lower.
He breaks the kiss, sucking in air, his fingers tugging at the hem.
“Take it off.”
My fingers toy with his collar as I eye the buttons on his shirt, equally breathless, skin vibrating, thighs shaky.
“Take it off, Cara. Now.”
Eyes locked on him, I lift the chemise over my body and let it drop to the floor. I step out of my fuzzy slippers, backing away toward the bedroom.
“It’s been a week. I’ve been away from you for a week. And you open the door like this.”
He follows, his steps faster, crazed with lust. It’s a look I haven’t seen from him in a long time. Stripping off his shirt, he stalks forward until the backs of my thighs hit the mattress.
“Off,” he says again, and his gaze drops to my lace panties. He toes off his shoes, and his jeans and briefs drop to the floor.
I expect him to kiss me again, but he stands there, soaking me in, his fingers around his thick, hard shaft, stroking.
“That’s better. I can see you now. And my god, you are exquisite.”
And then he’s on me, desperate, like a starving man. His hands cup my bottom, and he lifts me up. My legs spread, welcoming him. His finger swipes my seam, and he sucks his skin.
“You’re so fucking wet.”
I love this side of Dorian. The unleashed, uncontrolled side.
And then he’s over me, pushing in. I revel in the shock, the ecstasy.
“Tell me again.”
He thrusts, filling me with him, with love, with life.
“Tell me.” His low growl vibrates near my ear.
“What?” I gasp, my fingers clawing at his back.
“You love me.”
“I do. I love you so much.”
And then, I lose the ability to speak. To breathe.
His movements, his words, just him.
“So beautiful. Made for me.”
“Yes.” It’s all I can get out.
“You’re mine.”
I’ve always been his. And always will be.