I turn on my computer, finding the email the security team left this evening. I meant to get to it earlier, but Orla’s nephews stopped by pushing for more responsibility in the family. They’re so young and stupid that I won’t take responsibility for them. They’re loose cannons and that’s not something I want in my organization. I put a call through to Ryan about them. I want to talk to him about it.
I cue up the footage Joe from security sent over. I’m not a religious man, but I’m praying that Belle Tate hasn’t caused issues. I quickly grow bored going through what happened earlier that morning. Still, out of mild curiosity, I watch a bit. I learn only that Sierra spends entirely too much time on the telephone with her sister Rhoda. I click the mouse to fast forward until I find the right time.
I watch as Belle comes in and talks to Sierra. I think I’d ignored how gorgeous the curvy red head was until I see her. She looks damn hot with her outfit hugging her curves, but she’s got dark sunglasses on, which didn’t seem her style the first time we met. I try zooming in. I can’t see a whole lot of her face, but I can see a cut on her lip. I freeze the frame hoping to see more. I try to zoom in even more, but as I do it just gets grainy.
“Why are you here, Belle?” I ask myself. I can’t think of anything. Did someone hurt you? That would explain the lip and her need for those big glasses. I’m not sure why she would come to me for help, but I can admit that a part of me likes it.
Probably too much.
Sierra picks up the radio around the time she said Vince passed out. She gets up and runs out the door leaving Belle standing at the reception desk. I know two of the five-member security team stationed to walk the perimeter are with me upstairs, so I’m assuming she was able to sneak in when the other two plus Sierra were helping Vince. It all left the building completely vulnerable. I don’t think Belle was here with any ill intent. I just didn’t see that kind of malice in her when I was asking about her father in her apartment.
People will always surprise you, though.
“Turn around and go home, Belle,” I mutter, like she might actually hear me—as if I can go back in the past and will her to do what I want. Belle looks at the door.
“Motherfucker…”
Frustration boils inside of me. A wave of dizziness tries to pull me under. I shake it off and take another drink of coffee as I watch her move to the elevator. It feels like my heart is pounding in my ears. I don’t know why I feel so out of control about Belle. Hell, I’m even breaking out in a cold, clammy sweat.
I turn up the speaker on my computer, so I don’t miss whatever she’s saying, hoping it gives me a clue as to why she was there to begin with. I’ve already given up hope about her coming to my office—I just hope she didn’t see everything.
“Why would there even be an elevator? It’s only two floors,” she mutters, stepping into it quickly. I watch her tap away at the button like she knows she shouldn’t be there.
“Turn around, Belle!” I mutter again before she starts to talk to herself again. “You shouldn’t be here, little one,” I almost groan.
“This is crazy. What am I supposed to say to him? Hi, Mr. Killian, do you remember me? You carted up canned goods to my apartment and scared me half to death? I thought you were really hot, but you’re scary and that’s more intimidating than your looks.”
I smirk as I listen to her. She’s so different from any woman I’ve ever met. It’s appealing, but she’s not for me. She’s light, and my world is definitely dark. Still, she’s beautiful and cute at the same time. It’s enough to make me wish I could go back and choose a different path, wondering what would have been different with a girl like Belle in my life. It’s a stupid thought, however, and I know it. Innocents and men like me don’t mesh—not in any world. If I need evidence of that, the fact I’m sitting here watching security footage of Belle and wondering how I’m going to keep her quiet is enough proof.
I rub the back of my neck, my palm touching the cold perspiration there. This can’t be all because of Belle. Maybe that sandwich I ate earlier was bad. That would be my luck. I don’t have time for food poisoning.
I missed something Belle said, so I rewind it a bit listening again to her say that she thinks I’m hot, a small smile playing on my lips. I lean in as it gets to the part where she starts speaking again.