Page 49 of Rio (Knight Empire #3)

RAQUEL

The first I hear about it is when Alma calls me, her voice high and panicked. “Where did you get some of the data?” she demands.

My heart stops. “What data?”

“The data you used in the report, when you filed the injunction. “It’s problematic.”

“W-What do you mean it’s problematic?” My insides hollow out and a heavy weight lands in my chest. Surely she’s not talking about the file Rio gave me?

No. It can’t be.

“It’s false. It’s falsified. The case has collapsed. They didn’t just reject the injunction. They tore the whole case apart. We’ve lost credibility. The donors are panicking. We’re withdrawing the case, Raquel. It’s over.”

“Over?” The word barely makes it out. The room tilts around me and I sink into my chair, as my legs begin to buckle.

“The court found inconsistencies in the data. They’re questioning the validity of your key evidence. The case has no legs to stand on.” Alma’s voice is grim.

I press a hand to my forehead, feeling dizzy. “They can’t do that.”

“They can, and they did.”

I open my mouth but no words come out.

“Was this to do with Rio Knight? Did he play you?” Alma demands.

I clutch the phone tighter. “No. I-I …I don’t think so.” That’s just it. I’m not sure. But he wouldn’t do this, would he? A dark, dark thought worms into existence. I’m still in shock, trying to process what she’s telling me.

“He gave you a folder. You told me it was data by a third-party. Did you use it?”

“I-I … I might have used a little of it.”

I hear a loud exhale at the end of the phone. “You will have received an email from the Belizean court. Cross check the data specifically and get back to me.”

My gut twists, and I’m wondering what it could be as I sink back into my chair.

My heart slides further down my ribcage, like it’s given up.

Hands trembling, I pull up the file on my computer.

It could be the data Rio gave me. I didn’t intend to use any of it, but I did, because I was struggling to get the report together.

I didn’t use a lot of it. At least—I didn’t think I did.

But I think back to that night. It was late and I’d arrived at Rio’s hotel room, where I’d gone only because the generator at my hotel failed.

That was my first mistake, going there.

And then one thing led to another, and another and we got carried away. I hadn’t slept enough as it was, and with me and him making out, it’s no wonder my mind was frazzled.

When I got back to my hotel, it was late. I was panicking, and rushing. I got sloppy, and I think I added more of the data than I intended to. I open my own records and pull up the same file I submitted last month. My fingers shake as I compare it line by line to what the court flagged.

I read through Section D. The part that refers to coral reef damage in the southern coast—it’s not even consistent with the field notes I took on site. I never noticed. There are other consistencies throughout, all highlighted. A horrible thought creeps into my brain, sour and slow.

Rio did this to me. Deliberately. I was too trusting. Too reckless. And now the court’s thrown it all out. It’s rejected the injunction which means Delport Realty have won. Knight Enterprises have indirectly won. And the people of Belize have lost.

I feel wretched. Like someone’s fisted me in my gut and winded me. I think back to the way he handed me that file. Confident and casual, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like he expected me to trust him.

He even said I didn’t need to take it. Made it sound so innocent.

I fell for it.

Was this to do with Rio Knight? Did he play you?

I can’t get Alma’s words out of my head. Because I think he did. He played me like a sad and sorry tune on a violin. I close the laptop slowly, like the truth might stop screaming at me if I just shut the lid.

Now I wonder, did he do this on purpose? I still can’t believe it. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. But then I think back to everything—his visits here, mine to New York. All those soft moments. All those silences. All those nights thick with heat and want. Wickedly wild and etched into my skin.

I sink further back into my chair, desk, hollow and stunned. I trusted him, emotionally and professionally. In doing so I forgot who he was. A Knight. Through and through. And this is what those people do. Rio has helped me to sabotage the case.

I call Alma back, my voice shaky, as I tell her it was the data from the file Rio gave me. I start to say I’m sorry, but she cuts me short. Tells me that the NGO has paused my work. They’ve launched an internal review.

“This was a betrayal. You let us down. You let me down, and you let yourself down. I trusted you to help us, but you’ve ruined everything.”

I’m broken. My reputation is in tatters with the NGO, with the wonderful team at EcoGuardians, with Alma. She meant so much to me. Now she tells me that the case is damaged beyond repair. She doesn’t have to tell me how betrayed she feels. I feel it in my bones.

My credibility is on the line and my future is hanging by a thread.

I don’t even want to know how Pierce will react.

But I don’t have to wait for long. As soon as I get off the phone from Alma, my office door slams wide open and Pierce storms in, his face twisted with fury, cheeks red, glaring at me in such a way I’m scared his eyeballs will pop out of his sockets.

“I got a call,” he snaps. “Your documents were discredited. Your case has been officially thrown out.”

I stare at him, cowering like a child, unable to formulate a word.

“What data did you use?” he cries. I look at him, cold and cornered. I tell him it was from a file passed to me by someone. “Who?” he barks. I know just how bad this looks.

“It came from a file. Passed to me by someone I trusted.”

“Who?” he barks again.

I hesitate.

“I told you I didn’t want you to file the injunction, but you went against my wishes. You submitted this mess. Don’t make me ask you again. Where did the data come from?”

I pull open my drawer and hand him the folder. “I have it right here.”

“Where the fuck is it from?” he bellows.

“Rio Knight gave it to me.”

Silence.

“Rio. Knight? ” His cutting tone slices through me, and I feel it shredding my gut into pieces. “You’re fucking him,” he states calmly, glaring at me. “I thought as much.”

A warning bell goes off in my head. Before I can say another word, he beats me to it.

“You have him running around after you, like some whipped billionaire lapdog, you …” He screws his face up, like he’s revolted by me.

“Having his hands and mouth all over you, turning up at that meeting late, looking like a …”

He saw.

He saw us together.

That night in the SUV, when Rio surprised me, when I climbed into his backseat and let him do what he wanted to with me.

He saw it, and the way he’s looking at me? He’s going to destroy me. I open my mouth but my throat closes. Something icy twists in my gut.

“This was before … before anything happened between us,” I say. Anything major , is what I mean to say, because up until then, I’d still crossed a line, albeit blurry.

Who am I kidding?

I can’t defend myself. Everything points to me. Unethical, reckless, shameful behavior. I lost my head. That’s what. Pierce laughs, and I wince. Because I know that prickly laugh well. It’s a warning that something bad is coming my way.

“You know what the board’s saying right now? That we’ve been compromised. That your relationship, personal or not, with a Knight has tainted this entire operation.”

“Pierce—”

“You handed the court falsified evidence. You violated legal protocol. And you buried this organization’s credibility in the process.”

“I didn’t know—”

“No,” he snaps, “but you should have. Were you thinking, at all, while you were in Belize, or did one look at that Knight turn your brain to mush? You submitted evidence without verifying the source. That is negligence and that, is career-ending.” He steps closer, drops his voice to a dangerous level.

“The executive director is already calling for a full review. And if they ask me to make a recommendation?”

I already know what’s coming.

“I’ll say you breached protocol. That you compromised the mission. That your bias, your involvement, cost us one of the most important environmental cases we’ve ever brought to court.”

That’s what he’s calling it now? He didn’t think it was so important when it first dropped on his desk. I know what he’s doing. He’s going to paint me as the worst, humiliate me, and ruin me.

“You wanted to play the hero, but you’ve caused your own downfall. This is what happens when you mix business with bedtime.”

“Please don’t do this,” I whisper.

But he’s already walking away.

“Oh, I didn’t do this. You did this to yourself,” he says. “You handed them everything they needed to tear us apart.”

The door slams shut behind him.

And I fall apart.