Page 15 of Therefore

Chapter Thirteen

Trystan

“ R emind me why the fuck you agreed to this?” Bee snarked from behind their laptop.

We’d set up near the window of a busy coffee shop, across the street from the Rose and Swan pub.

It gave me the perfect vantage point to look out for where my target was expected to be heading for a cheeky after-work drink any minute now.

From Bee’s research, they had a very productive Monday, and this would be the perfect time to strike.

“It’s an easy job,” I explained, relaxing in my chair enough to appear content, while I watched the pub’s entrance like a hawk.

Bee took a bite of a flaky pastry, crumbs flying as they spoke, “Uh-huh. You’re not swaying that lawyer over to the dark side with this move, you know.”

“I’m not trying to,” I said a little too quickly. “He asked for a favour, and I have the time to help him out, is all.”

“Only because you’ve been avoiding your actual job.” The words were harsh, but Bee’s eyes were full of concern. “I get needing to rest over the weekend, but it’s almost been a week since you first tried—”

“It’s fine . I’ve got a few more days until the deadline.” At least, I hoped I did.

Roman’s client still said the diary was at Emerson’s office. All I needed to do was buy Emerson enough time to get what he needed from it and then steal it before it went back into police custody. Easy peasy. Everybody won. Well, the people important to me won.

When did I start thinking of Emerson as someone important to me?

Ugh, this scent match crap was messing with my head.

I’d managed to stay away from him since leaving his penthouse Friday morning, but deep down, I was itching to see him again.

My mind kept playing scenarios of how I could “accidentally” bump into him again, like I had some schoolyard crush. Fucking embarrassing.

Things just felt better around him. I felt more like myself, even when I had to defend my morally questionable career.

Being in his presence soothed something inside me, and I missed that feeling.

I missed him. The way he challenged me. The way he looked at me like I was the centre of his world when I talked about trying to fucking rob him.

When I closed my eyes, I could still see the look on his face when he insisted he could keep me safe. He genuinely believed it, and I wanted to believe him, too.

Bee passed me a small device from their backpack that looked remarkably similar to a vape pen.

“Here, this should record everything you need and send it straight to me here in real time. Even if you fall on your arse and break it, if I’ve heard the words here, we’ll have it saved.

Just stick it in your pocket, get in as close as you can, and don’t get caught. ”

I twirled it in my fingers as a blond woman wearing a sharp pantsuit with a distinctive red coat and bag headed into the pub. Exactly as described. Three men in suits followed her closely, laughing and playfully crowding each other—her colleagues.

Perfect. The whole gang’s here.

Shoving the device in my jeans pocket, I stood. “Never do.”

Bee snorted into their coffee. “Until recently, sure.”

It didn’t take long to find my targets inside the pub, crowded around a high bar table.

Most of the large firms in the area would still have people working late into the evening, but this group was celebrating a big win in technology development.

Technology that Norah’s client, Claudia, claims they stole from her.

Once I’d grabbed a coke from the bar, I positioned myself at the window, pretending to people-watch with my back to the group I was actually here for. There wasn’t anyone between us, so the mic should pick up their conversation clearly. Shooting a text to Bee, I waited for the chaos.

It only took a minute for my phone to ping , along with everyone within ten metres of me.

Here we go .

One of the men quickly spoke, his voice rumbling with a deep timber. “Mate, did you seriously just click an unknown link over public Wi-Fi?”

“It’s an article about our project,” a younger voice replied. “Wait a sec, Georgia! You need to read this. It says they’re pulling our funding!”

Georgia scoffed, “What? It has to be fake. We barely closed that deal two hours ago.”

Young-voice continued, “It was only posted ten minutes ago. It says that police have launched an investigation into the creation of our tech, prompting an immediate loss of funding from the firm.”

The third man finally spoke up. “Crap! It must be Claudia. She said she was going to get a lawyer. But how does the press know already?”

The first voice shushed him. “Shut up. That’s impossible.”

Young-voice started panicking, “But we were careful. She’s got nothing on us! They can’t prove we stole anything.”

“Keep your fucking voice down, James,” Georgia hissed.

I kept the recording going for another twenty minutes, quietly enjoying my drink and scrolling through my phone as the suits behind me collectively crapped their pants.

I really didn’t think they’d fall for a fake news report that easily, especially one that popped up directly on their phones.

What a bunch of fucking idiots. The recording wouldn’t be enough for any convictions, but it would get a warrant to search for hard evidence. Either way, my job was done.

Bee and I quickly regrouped at the coffee shop before heading straight to the Morgan & Watson office.

Unlike the last time we were here, we stood out like sore thumbs amongst the suits still milling around the reception area.

Yet no one stopped us as we made a beeline to the elevator.

Good to know that we could stroll right in if we walked with enough purpose.

“You sure you’re okay being here?” Bee asked, hitting the button for Emerson’s floor.

“Yeah, totally. We’re just delivering our side of a contract. Nothing’s going to happen this time.”

Bee studied me up and down, not at all buying what I was selling. “It’s okay if you want to see him, you know.”

My eyes flicked to theirs, then quickly away. As much as I appreciated the support, it wasn’t okay for me to want my alpha. Not as long as I was under Roman’s thumb.

The elevator doors opened, and we silently headed down the corridor to Emerson’s office.

The floor seemed empty, not unusual for late afternoon, but I suddenly worried I should’ve called first to say we were coming.

Before I could pull my phone out to call Emerson, I spotted a young blond woman sitting at the desk outside his office.

Her head snapped up as we approached, and a pleasant smile spread across her face.

“Trystan Wells? My name is Pearl. I’m Mr Richter’s assistant.

It’s nice to meet you.” She stood, offering her hand to shake, and I took it.

Her hand was smooth and delicate, her nails neatly polished, but she had a firm, confident grip.

Must be needed when working around alphas. She turned to Bee. “And you must be—”

“Bee.” They leaned forward, shaking her hand enthusiastically. “As in, Bumble.”

“Yes, I was sorry to hear our colleagues couldn’t provide you the help you sought last week. Especially as Emerson had to see to other matters at the time.” Pearl gave me a pointed look, her eyebrows raised with a smirk as she returned to her seat.

Bee either didn’t notice the look, or took pity on me for once and didn’t say anything about it. “Eh, I knew it was a longshot when I came in.”

Pearl gestured to the sofa behind us. “Emerson is in a meeting right now, but please, take a seat. He shouldn’t be much longer.”

I nodded but stayed standing, bouncing slightly on my toes as a strange, nervous energy sparked through me.

My eyes darted around the small waiting area, unable to stay focused on one thing for too long.

Bee lounged on the sofa, not a care in the world, while Pearl sat opposite, swiftly tapping keys on her laptop.

The sound faded into the background like white noise as my pulse pounded in my ears.

Despite taking my suppressants earlier, Emerson’s leather and patchouli scent filtered through the door. Guess that scent match-recognition thing really wasn’t going away. Could he already smell that I was here waiting for him?

My eyes flicked to Pearl again, only to find her watching me with interest. Scratching at the back of my neck—when had it got so sweaty?—I asked, “You, uh, like working here?”

Trystan Wells, small-talk extraordinaire.

Taking pity on me, her gaze softened. “Emerson is the best boss I’ve had. He’s a good man and easy to trust.”

Pearl’s words weren’t lost on me, but doubts still clawed at my mind. Emerson may be a good lawyer, one of the best from what I’d heard, but I wouldn’t be accepting him as a lawyer. To me, he was an alpha. My alpha.

Footsteps snapped my attention as a short, pale man in an expensive, but ill-fitting suit stopped at the end of the hallway. He held a small stack of files as he stared down at me, tilting his head slightly, then focused on Pearl.

Keeping my voice low, so not to be overheard, I asked her, “Do you know that guy?”

She glanced over before rolling her eyes back to her laptop. “Oh, that’s Harris. He’s harmless.”

“You sure? He’s staring pretty intensely.”

The office door swung open, and Emerson strolled out, laughing with the two people following him. The sound made something flutter in my chest, completely distracting me from the creepy suit. By the time my brain rebooted enough to look back, he was already gone.

“Trystan, perfect timing.” Emerson smiled at me, making my stomach do that annoying fluttery thing again. “I’d like you to meet Norah and Francis, the firm’s partners and close friends of mine.”

A beautiful woman with dark skin and a dazzling smile—Norah, I assumed—offered me her hand. “So good to finally meet you. Emerson has been annoyingly tight-lipped when it comes to you.”

I shook her hand, nodding politely before turning my attention to the second stranger.

“Call me Frankie, please,” he said, giving my hand a firm shake as he cast his eyes over me.

Frankie wasn’t as broadly built as Emerson, but he clearly worked out regularly.

Enough that I was intimidated just standing beside him, especially as his grip on my hand lingered.

“Yes, Emerson, I’m surprised you haven’t been bragging about this one. He’s definitely something special.”

In the blink of an eye, Emerson’s expression turned from cheerful to murderous.

The warming vanilla in his scent overwhelmed the patchouli, the spice heating the air around us as he snaked an arm behind me.

His hand gripped my hip, and he not-so-subtly pulled me away from his boss as he ground out the words, “Well, you can’t blame me for wanting to keep him all to myself. ”

Frankie watched with a smirk spread across his pale, freckled cheeks. Throwing me a wink, he said, “Not at all.”

Norah softly thwapped her partner’s chest. “Stop baiting him, dear. Now, I believe you have something for me, Trystan?”

Hopping up from the sofa, Bee bounced into the centre of the most awkward moment of my life, holding up a memory card. “Hi, yes. I’m Bee, and I’d love to get out of here before one of these two starts pissing on my flatmate’s leg.”

She chuckled, carefully plucking the memory card from Bee’s fingers. “I like you, Bee. I assume everything we need is on here?”

They nodded. “Any issues, you all know how to get in touch with Trys. I’ll send an invoice for our services.”

“Thank you both,” she said sincerely. “Not only have you potentially saved my case with this, but you may have saved a promising young woman’s career. I don’t usually like using private investigators, but in this case, I’m extremely grateful.”

My body tensed at Norah’s words, and Emerson’s grip on my hip tightened. Private investigators? News to me.

While Bee basked in the praise of a job well done, my alpha leaned in closely to murmur low in my ear, “My office, now.”

With a territorial squeeze of my hip, Emerson guided me towards his office, never once breaking contact with me.

Bee and I shared a quick look as I walked past them.

Their eyebrows raised in question, and I flicked them an okay hand sign with my thumb and index finger.

I could handle my alpha. The real question was whether he could handle me.

The door closed behind us, and Emerson’s mouth crashed against mine.

His lips devoured me like he was trying to own the deepest essence of me.

I could only cling to his shoulders, digging my fingers into the muscles as our bodies pressed together.

It felt so good to be near him again, to touch him again.

My inner omega had craved his comfort, but I still needed more. I needed him to claim me.

Emerson spoke against my lips between his kisses. “I missed you the last few days. It’s hard staying away, even when I want to give you space.”

“One weekend was your idea of space?”

“I thought you needed it after our talk the other morning.”

He leaned in to kiss me again, and I bit his lip hard, but not hard enough to draw blood. He flinched.

“So you decided to tell them I’m a private investigator. That’s the angle you’re playing?”

Emerson traced his thumb over my jawline, staring deep into my eyes. “There’s no angle, love.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and studied his face, searching for any trace of a lie. He seemed honest. He believed what he was saying, but it didn’t make sense to me. Shaking my head out of his grip, I asked, “Then what the fuck are you trying to do here, Emerson? This shit isn’t my world.”

He didn’t let me step away, holding me against him with his arm around my back. The body heat coming off him felt like a brand, even through our clothes. “Only because you don’t think it can be your world. But I know we can have a future, Trystan. All you need to do is listen to me.”

I rolled my eyes, growling, “Again, with the alpha bullshit!”

“I know what you need!”

“No! I don’t know if this is some sad attempt to save me or fix me, but either way, stop it ,” I snapped, finally pushing him away with both hands on his chest. “I’m not some fuckable project for a lonely alpha, and I don’t want your help!”

Emerson’s pale eyes widened, and he reached a hand out to me. “Trystan, you’re not—”

“I can’t trust you.”

Worse, I wasn’t sure I even wanted to try.