Imperfect Affections

Something about the whole scenario smells fishy. Why would Elliot protect a father who, at that time, had chosen me, a stranger, over his own son for a promotion? It’s not like Elliot to want nothing out of the blackmailing for himself.

Unless…

I go cold, the brittle anger I’ve only recently managed to push under the surface resurrected by a nasty suspicion that takes root in my mind.

Unless Elliot blackmailed Violet.

For what?

And then it’s clearer than a blue sky on a cloudless day.

To steal my program.

Violet was always in the office after hours—alone. She had access to the computers. That made her an ideal candidate for theft. Elliot used her, and Violet stole my program to protect her mother.

I ball my hands into fists. From a logical point of view, it makes sense. Elliot must’ve been behind it. How else did Violet know what to look for and how to copy it? She’s not computer savvy enough to have figured it out on her own. Why haven’t I considered this sooner? Maybe because I was too blinded by my rage. Maybe because she never denied her guilt. And maybe because I could use her crime against her and apply a little blackmailing of my own.

“Why did Gus promote Elliot instead of me?” I ask carefully.

Gia cocks a shoulder. “Who knows? As I said, Gus serves his own agenda. Making Elliot his partner must’ve benefited him more in the end.”

Violet didn’t tell her mother the whole truth. No, Gia is blissfully unaware of Violet’s crime.

“So,” Gia says. “Will you help me?”

“What exactly am I looking for?”

Sagging in her seat, she blows out a breath. “Photos of me and a man. I don’t know how many there are. I haven’t seen them myself. Only Violet has.”

“I assume you want to destroy them.”

“I want them in my hands. I want to see them burn to ashes with my own two eyes.”

I nod my understanding. “I hope you’re not this trusting with everyone, especially not the people who work for your husband.”

She leans forward and starts the engine. When the radio blares to life, she turns down the volume. “As I said, I asked you because my daughter trusts you and because you saw for yourself who Gus really is.” Flashing me a smile, she says, “I’m not stupid.”

“Gia,” I say as she turns the Landcruiser around and heads down the hill. I wait until she glances at me before I continue. I want to make sure she sees how serious I am. “I’ll get you those photos, but only this once. If it happens again, you’re on your own.”

“I didn’t ask you to help me more than once,” she says, forcing brightness into her voice.

Then she tunes me out, humming to a song that comes on as if she has no care in the world.

The whole way back to Midrand, I go over everything in my mind. The more I think about it, the more I’m certain my theory is right. But I want to hear it from Violet’s lips. Tonight, she will confess the truth.

Most of the employees’ cars are still in the parking lot when we get back to the office. It’s not even five.

“Thank you,” Gia says when I jump from the Landcruiser.

As I can’t take credit for a job I haven’t done yet, I don’t tell her she’s welcome. Besides, this job isn’t going to be a pleasure. I’m too clever to get myself caught, but there’s no arguing that hacking into anyone’s desktop at Starley Solutions, let alone the new partner’s and Gus’s son, is risking my life.

Breaking every speed limit and skipping a red light or two, I get home in twenty minutes. Violet exits from the neighbor’s house when I park in the garage. I walk toward her with long strides, meeting her halfway down the street. Her eyes flare when she looks at my face.

“Leon, what’s going on?”

Curling my fingers around her upper arm, I guide her toward the garage. “Inside. Now.”

She tries to pry away my fingers but gives up the fight when the garage door lowers behind us. In the dim light, her cheeks are pale.

“What happened?” she asks as I steer her into the kitchen.

Only then do I let her go. “Your mother paid me a visit.”

“What?” She backs up to the sink, rubbing her arm where I’ve gripped her. “Why?”

“That’s what you’re going to tell me,” I say, going after her and stopping so close to her she has to bend backward to meet my gaze.

She stares at me, fear etched on her features. “What are you talking about?”

“She told me, Violet.”

Her throat bobs. “Told you what?”