Page 45

Valeria

M y eyes traced the numbers on the paper, making me frown.

The end of the month was close, and I had to review the paperwork before having it signed by the boss, but the amounts didn't match.

There was a weird movement of cash between the vault and the slot machines, and I couldn't find the source of two million dollars.

It felt like it appeared out of nowhere.

Scowling at it, I wanted to call the accountants, but my hand stopped mid-air in front of my ear, holding the phone. I completely forgot who I was working for, but it took me only a moment to realize the facts.

Zyon laundered money through the casino, which was the only explanation for an excessive amount of cash appearing on the vault shelves. He needed to clean it, and my search of the reports from previous months only confirmed this.

My experienced eye caught the irregularities even though I never worked as an accountant.

When Chester still worked as a trader on Wall Street, he taught me some tricks.

He showed me where to look, and since then, I couldn't unsee the anomalies.

He called me a doll because he deemed me pretty but considered me stupid.

He had no idea I was more intelligent than he could ever imagine and that I remembered many things he told me in unguarded moments .

Thanks to that, I uncovered Zyon's extracurricular activities but wasn't surprised by them. According to the internet, he had so much money he could flush it down the toilet just for fun. Of course, he had to stash it somewhere.

Rolling my eyes at the recent discovery, I corrected the amounts so everything fitted perfectly, gathered the papers, and headed to Zyon's office.

I didn't want to confront him about my findings.

I'd learned my lesson not to stick my nose into his business.

I just needed his signature, and when I saw Jamal leaning against the bar, I knew the boss was around.

Jamal was like his shadow, who never lost sight of him.

With a pounding heart, I adjusted my dress and peered at my watch. It was ten am. I’d spent two hours buried under the paperwork. The time flew past quickly when I had something to preoccupy my mind with.

Taking another deep breath, I reached the door to Zyon's office. The desk for his assistant was empty, and the hall was quiet. Without thinking twice about it, I turned the knob on the massive wooden door, not realizing I should've knocked first.

The sight before me struck the air out of my lungs. Zyon sat on the leather couch, facing the door. That would be entirely okay if there wasn’t a blonde woman between his legs, giving him head.

My body froze in shock, and my stomach twisted with disgust. My heart dropped when his dark eyes zoomed on me, hooded with satisfaction.

"I-I'm sorry," I beeped, swiftly turning on my heels and closing the door behind me.

My chest heaved, and I pressed my palm over my heart. Its thunderous beating echoed in my ears, deafening me. The shock was quickly replaced by unwelcome pain that threatened to consume me. The confusion mixed with the discomfort of uncovering that Zyon had someone to satisfy his needs.

But what did I think?

As an adult man, he needed some intimacy . I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just a momentary distraction or a woman he was in a relationship with. Yet my heart was aching, and my entire body trembled.

The realization felt like a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown over me.

Whatever I imagined, it was just my fantasy.

I had a stalker who was obsessed with me to the point that I was one hundred percent sure he would never do this.

This was the proof I needed. Even when the similarities confused me and led me in the wrong direction, this explained everything.

Zyon wasn't my stalker. Under the skull mask was another man.

The sound of the knob spinning disturbed my thoughts, and I stepped to the side.

A gorgeous blonde with smeared lipstick, red puffy eyes, and destroyed hair walked out of the office, smiling happily.

Her terrific figure was pressed in a tight-fitting dress that showed off her flawless legs and an indecent amount of cleavage.

She could barely walk in insanely high stilettos as she sauntered around me with a dreamy smile on my face.

The wave of confusing jealousy washed over me as I watched her leave.

I had no right to feel like this. Zyon wasn't my partner or lover.

He was my boss, and I had a crush on him, but that was pretty much it.

Yet, discovering there were other women in his life who got much more of him than me made me want to scream and cry at the same time.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

I just admitted I’d fallen in love with my stalker. It was hard to look at myself in the mirror without wanting to vomit after he confessed to the murder. But this, what I felt at this very moment, was utterly ridiculous.

Could I be in love with both of them?

My eyes widened at the irrational thought that appeared out of nowhere, and I was glad that the sound of the door opening again broke my ludicrous thinking. Zyon's dark eyes scanned me for a split second before he motioned for me to come into his office.

Reluctantly, I entered the familiar grim space filled with boxes full of files, glancing at him as he sat behind his desk, rested his elbows on it, and entwined his fingers before his face.

His expression was a stiff mask without emotions, just as usual, but there was something amusing in it.

My brows furrowed slightly as I stared into his dark eyes, which roamed my body shamelessly.

Heat spread from my stomach through my entire body, and a delicious shiver ran down my spine.

It was entirely inappropriate, but my body had its own mind when it came to this man.

"Are you okay, Valeria?" he asked after long, torturing moments of deafening silence when only my pounding heart was heard .

"What was that?" I burst out without thinking, my eyes broadening as words flew from my mouth. They sounded intensely jealous, almost threatening. I surely didn't want to sound like an obsessed girlfriend, but that was precisely what happened.

"A job interview," he replied nonchalantly, tilting his head. "She passed it with flying colors."

My stomach twisted with pure disgust, and I was glad I hadn't had breakfast because it would’ve ended up on the carpet. I gulped past the lump in my throat, trying to regain my composure, but I was perplexed by my own reactions and feelings. This situation caught me completely off guard.

"I need your signature," I said eventually when he stared at me with hypnotizing demonic eyes. Walking toward his desk, I placed papers on it, stepping back and avoiding eye contact. I wanted to get out of there quickly to solve the mess that settled in my head.

"Mine?" He lifted a brow, scanning the documents and giving me an opportunity to observe him. That was when I realized I might have been tricked.

"You're not Zyon," I whispered, focusing on the gorgeous face before me.

"What?" He lifted his eyes from the paper, deepening my confusion.

"You're not Zyon," I repeated, more and more sure about it. "You’re wearing a turtleneck, so no one notices the missing tattoo on your neck. Your hair is combed slightly to the left while Zyon combs it slightly to the right, and you’re holding a pen in your left hand. Zyon is right-handed."

The man before me leaned into his seat. An amused smile danced on his plump lips while my heart almost jumped out of my chest. I had no clue if it was Malin or Dorian, but I was sure it wasn't their oldest brother.

"You're not just a pretty face, Valeria," he said, still smiling. "Who do you think I am."

"Malin," I replied without thinking, but in a split second, his expression changed, and a wide, cheerful smile almost paralyzed me.

"Are you sure, darling?" he chirped, his eyes gleaming like beautiful dark gems.

I stared at him, perplexed and unsure of what I was witnessing. A couple of minutes ago, I glanced at Zyon, who turned into Malin and now Dorian. What the hell ?

"What is going on, Valeria?" he asked, his expression darkening. "Don't you know who I am?"

My head spun from the game he was forcing me to play. He caught me in a swirl of thoughts and doubts. The scenario repeated a few times when he confused me to the point I wanted to punch him in that gorgeous face.

Whenever I thought I had him, he slipped into the face of another one of his brothers. He changed his voice, expressions, and gestures easily, baffling me to the point I hid my eyes behind my palms and stopped looking at him.

“Go to Zyon, Valeria.” His merciful voice reached my ears, sounding almost gentle. "He'll sign the papers."

I looked at him from between my fingers, shaking my head.

"Do you all have this skill?" I asked, letting my arms fall beside my body.

"When we were kids, we found it entertaining to baffle people," he clarified with a tiny smile. "Only our mother can distinguish us, no matter what we do. We call it her secret superpower."

"It's sick," I breathed, gathering the papers with trembling fingers. I still had no clue who sat before me.

"It's useful," he said in a lecturing tone, narrowing his eyes at me. "In this world, you must use everything possible to gain advantage over your enemies."

The hidden meaning behind his words smashed me like a punch in the face.

They lived in a dangerous world where scheming and killing were on a daily basis.

They were like this because the situations they found themselves in demanded this type of behavior.

I shouldn't be surprised they could imitate each other like professional actors.