Page 21 of These Shoes Weren't Made for Stalking

He leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. “And?”

“And?” I prompted, curious about his line of questioning.

“What did you and Cretch discuss during your elevator ride?” Dominic inquired, his gaze fixed on me.

“Nothing, really. Just small talk.” I shrugged, but my mind raced back to that day. I paused, my brow furrowing as I recalled the conversation. “Now that I think about it, Cretch seemed oddly curious about my visit to your office. He seemed to be prying.”

“He introduced himself as your executive assistant. The one who schedules all your meetings.” My fingers drummed against the wooden armrest. “And he made a point of saying I must be important because you never take guests without an appointment.”

“He is.” Dominic’s jaw tightened, a subtle change that drew my gaze to his chiseled jawline. “Though at times I’ve questioned his... allegiance.”

I pinched my bottom lip between my teeth as I considered the situation. “Why would he care so much about who I am?”

“Good question,” Dominic said, his brow furrowing. He leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. “Cretch was an early liaison between Vertex and the mayor’s office.”

I mulled over this new piece of information. “You don’t think he’d use his position to influence the mayor somehow, do you?”

“It’s possible. He’s always been ambitious and I’ve never known him to give a damn about playing by the rules.”

“But why would he vandalize Rosie’s bakery? It doesn’t make sense.”

Dominic’s cool gray eyes met mine. “Perhaps he’s trying to manipulate property values. Or create problems the mayor can solve.”

A chill raced along my spine as a thought struck me. “Wait. What if Cretch was the one Jake’s neighbor saw threatening him?”

“That’s... an interesting theory,” Dominic said, his voice low. “We shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but it’s worth looking into.”

I watched him rise to his feet with the smooth precision of a big cat pouncing on its prey. “Perhaps we need to have a talk with the mayor?”

“I think you’re right.” I nodded, my mind racing. What game was Cretch and Mayor Holloway playing? And how deep did this rabbit hole go?

Dominic’s polished oxfords clicked against stone in perfect rhythm with my worn work boots as we climbed the steps to City Hall. The security guard at the entrance perked up when he spotted me. I’d fixed his daughter’s favorite ballet slippers last month.

“Leo! Good to see you.”

“Good to see you too, Carl,” I said with a smile. “Is the mayor in?”

“Just finished his four o’clock. Should be free now.”

I checked my watch. “We have a little under an hour before City Hall shuts its doors for the night.”

“Perfect,” Dominic said. “No interruptions, no excuses, just straight answers from our esteemed mayor.”

I matched Dominic’s purposeful stride down the marble hallway. The scent of pine and sandalwood from his alpha pheromones mixed with the musty air of old paperwork and floor polish as we made our way toward the mayor’s office.

A clash of muffled shouts leaked through the heavy oak door as we approached, followed by the sharp crack of something hitting a wall.

“You can’t do this! It’s wrong!”

I exchanged a glance with Dominic. “That’s Jake’s voice.”

My nose brushed against Dominic’s jacket as he pulled me behind him, his pine and spice scent wrapping around me like a shield. The muscles in his back tensed beneath his tailored suit as he pushed open the mayor’s door.

Mayor Holloway stood behind his desk, his face flushed red with anger. His eyes widened at our sudden entrance. Across from him, looking pale and disheveled, was Jake.

“Jake!” I stepped forward, but Dominic grabbed my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

Jake turned to us, relief washing over his features. “Leo! Thank God you’re here. The mayor, he’s been?—“