Page 173 of Ruthless Desires: Vol. Two

Just look a little confused,I remind myself as I near the billiard room.Like you’re just really bad at following directions and don’t know how you ended up here.

My heart feels like it’s going to beat its way out of my chest. The calming breaths I take do absolutely nothing, and holding the bag is the only thing hiding how badly my hands are shaking.

You can do this, Wren. You have to.

I count the doors as I go, and I reach the billiard room without interruption. The place is eerily empty except for the music and laughter coming from the ballroom.

Aubrey stashed a pair of gloves in the makeup bag, so I put them on quickly. My hands are shaking as I unlock the door and slip inside the billiard room. Once I’mout of sight, I slump against the door and release a long, slow breath. Half of the dangerous part is over.

Not wanting to be in here any longer than I have to be, I get to work. Turning on the light would be too conspicuous, so I use the flashlight on my phone, careful not to point it at any of the windows.

I find the painting with ease. Aubrey said the hinges are on the left side, so I get a grip on the right side of the frame and tug. There’s a slight resistance, but then it swings open. Elliot must be right about a magnet holding the unconnected side of it to the wall.

“Okay,” I tell myself, my voice barely audible to my own ears. “You can do this. Just like you practiced.”

As I remove the device from the makeup bag, I think I hear the faintest noise from the hallway. I freeze. It was so quiet that I’m not entirely sure I actually heard anything.

I don’t move for a minute, listening for any indicators that someone is in the hallway, but there’s only silence. Not even footsteps or the sound of a door opening or closing.

You just imagined it. Keep going.

The cracker fits over the dial exactly like it did at home. The magnets hold it in place, so I step back as it spins, working automatically to find the correct combination.

I can barely breathe. It’s a good thing I don’t have to work the device myself because I can’t stop my damn hands from trembling.

Why does it feel like I’m being watched?

“It’s just your anxiety,” I whisper to myself. Still, I shut off my phone’s flashlight so the light isn’t visible from the windows. As the darkness envelops me, my chest tightens.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.I gasp in short breaths of air as I feel around for the wall and press my back to it. It provides some semblance of a feeling of safety. When I close my eyes, I can pretend I’m standing anywhere other than exactly where I am.

There’s nothing in the dark. You can’t panic. Not when everyone’s depending on you.

I’m not sure how long it takes for the telltaleclickof the safe unlocking to reach my ears. All I care about is that it gives me an excuse to turn my flashlight on, even if I have to be careful with where I aim it.

The hard drive is the only thing in the safe. I snatch it up and stuff it in the makeup bag before quietly closing the door. After taking the cracker off and putting it in the bag as well, I close the safe, swing the painting back into place, and breathe a sigh of temporary relief.

Now for the most nerve-racking part—leaving without being seen.

Tucking the makeup bag under my arm, I press my ear to the door. I can’t hear much of anything, which is either perfect or disastrous.

Before opening the door, I turn the lock on the doorknob so I don’t have to use the key in the hallway. I should’ve locked it the moment I came inside, and now I feel pretty damn stupid for not doing exactly that.

At least no one tried to come in. Focus on the positive, Wren.

I press my ear to the door again. It’s solid wood, which isn’t helpful at the moment. I’d prefer something thinner so sound could pass through easier.

After a couple seconds of silence, I square my shoulders. I can’t stand here all night listening. This is the best it’s gonna get. Slowly, I open the door and peek out.

Nothing.

That’s good. Get a move on.

I close the billiard room door behind me and creep back toward the main hallway. As I’m shoving my gloves in the makeup bag, footsteps sound from the direction I’m heading. Of course, they’re headed my way.

I dart back the way I came. For a second, I debate hiding in the billiard room, but then I hear the laughter of two men. They’rewaytoo close for comfort and only coming nearer. I don’t have enough time to unlock the door and get back inside.

Running in heels on carpet feels as dangerous as it sounds, but I don’t have a choice. It’s either move quickly or get caught. I could always claim I got lost on my way downstairs, but this is the worst hallway for someone to find me in.