Corrupted Chaos: Chapter 21

We’d celebrated our achievements on the last day of the retreat. JUNIPER was sent out to all the cybersecurity teams in every state, and we were assigned regions to make sure they would be taken care of. I set up protocols and trained the team to handle breaches, planning with all of them to have weekly video chat meetings up until the election.

Our last night, once I’d brushed my teeth in the guest bathroom and slipped into a Beethoven the dog T-shirt, I saw Cade lying on his side of the bed reading a comic book. Dressed only in sweatpants, tattoos painting his chest, and those glasses still on, my heart hurt not being able to climb on top of him.

I sighed and crawled into my side, then pulled my Kindle app up. I needed a good romance to live vicariously through.

“What are you reading?” he murmured, sparking the first conversation we’d had that day.

“Not sure yet. I should study some—”

“You should read for pleasure,” he immediately corrected me.

If only he knew about the types of books I read. The blush that stained my cheeks with his wording probably gave me away though.

He chuckled. “The look on your face tells me what I need to know.”

I scoffed. “What are you reading?”

“I’m reading for pleasure too. I can’t get the Harley Quinn out of you right now, so I’m reading the comics instead.”

Why did my throat instantly feel dry with his confession, like I couldn’t swallow down the pain of losing him that had started to grow in me? I had no control over the next words that came out of my mouth. “Can I read it with you?”

“Sure, dollface. Sure,” he murmured. Then he pulled me close, let me lay my head on his shoulder, and he read to me. The night stayed platonic, but somehow it felt more intimate than anything I’d ever experienced.

The next morning, we didn’t discuss anything. Instead, we said our farewells. I gave Rodney a hug goodbye, along with a few other people from different teams, then we all flew home.

Back in the office that Monday should have been fine, but I’d spent a weekend on my own. I’d stared at that terrible note longer than I should have. I cried in my bedroom and then in my spare room and then contemplated calling the man I felt I should be living without.

I painted picture after picture, and all of them reminded me of roses. I sat at my computer, ready to work, but couldn’t find the drive to do it. Bug purred around my legs most of the day, consoling me, which obviously meant I was in a funk. She wasn’t a loving cat.

When I saw him saunter in Monday morning, I avoided his gaze but felt the heat of it on me. He welcomed everyone back and congratulated us all, but especially me, on a feat not many in our industry could accomplish. He said it in front of everyone, and I blushed without looking up. The compliment coming from him was a fucking accolade that I would think about for the rest of my life.

Yet, I didn’t care about it right then. I cared about the way his voice slid over me, the way it felt like it was rubbing all the best parts of me, and how I wanted him all over again.

The rest of the week wasn’t any better. I was back in pencil skirts and stilettos with my high ponytail even though every day I yearned to wear a T-shirt to work, to abandon the professional look, and let my hair down. I instead worked quietly on tasks Juda assigned to me from Cade because Cade wouldn’t come talk to me. We’d all gone back to way it was. I even stayed and worked late every night since I had nothing else to do with my life.

I really didn’t. At least Gerald had stopped texting me. Except I had Cade to thank for that, too, which depressed me even more. And my sister was being more than a little annoying with her group texts—like I needed more on my plate.

Lilah: So, I feel like you need to tell our brothers what you told me over your work trip.

Dom: I think you need to tell us too, Izzy. What’s up?

Declan: Don’t leave us hanging.

Me: I’ll tell you all in good time.

Probably. Maybe.

Lilah: She won’t. She’s hoping you’ll all forget. I have super twin powers and can read her mind.

Dimitri: Get over yourself, Lilah. Everyone can read Izzy’s mind.

Me: You can’t.

Lilah: Okay well they should at least know who you’re sleeping with.

Declan: What the fuck. I don’t want to know that. Don’t sleep with anyone, Izzy.

Lilah: Too late. She slept with Caden Armanelli and thinks she can keep it from everyone.

Me: Why are you the worst, Lilah?

Dimitri: What in the actual fuck? I’m at work . . . I’m calling you in ten minutes, Izzy. You’d better pick up.

Declan called me first. I ignored him.

Me: No. All of you better stop calling. It was only a few times, and it’s over now.

Then Lilah called. I wanted to scream. Siblings were the worst humans in the world, even if I did love them and would die for them. Some days I wanted to kill them myself.

Me: I have to work.

Lilah: It’s 6 p.m. there.

Me: And I’m still working. We’ll talk soon. It’s over, it’s fine. Please drop it.

Then Lucas texted me too.

Lucas: Something’s wrong with you. We’re going to this mask party near Stonewood Tower tomorrow, so you can have a drink and tell me.

Me: I’m not in the mood, and I have a lot of work to do. Go without me.

Lucas: Just bring a hot dress if you intend to work late, and I’ll get you a mask. You’re going.

Me: I’m really not.

Lucas: If you don’t, I’ll literally follow you around all weekend like a sad puppy who needs their fun friend back. I can’t handle your sad hazel eyes all day.

Me: Fine.

I was such a good friend that I did what I was told. I picked a hot black dress and grabbed a makeup bag for after work. I knew I’d work late because I’d seen a hiccup in my region of JUNIPER the day before and wanted to dig in deeper.

The workday went the same as all the others, except that Cassie and Penelope breezed out early and most everyone else meandered out after them.

Lucas kissed me on the cheek and handed me a mask. “Text me when you get there. I sent you the address.”

I nodded, still focused on tinkering with my work. We were a week and a half out from the election, and I wanted everything to be perfect. My firewall was stable, withstanding various normal attempts of breaching, but this one small attempt was different.

“That’s odd,” I murmured as I dug into it. Thankfully I’d set up a system that alerted us to these weird site visitors because this one appeared to have a foreign setup.

One I recognized.

I followed the coding onto another site and hit the dark web for another ten minutes. It didn’t take me long as I hurried through codes and algorithms designed to distract most.

Months ago, Cade would have seen me digging, but now I didn’t think he bothered. Honestly, I only researched things for the election. I was past my undercover days, I realized. Maybe it’d happened at the retreat when I was distracted in a way I shouldn’t have been.

The thought made me work harder. I coded quickly and set up a hacking algorithm to break down the firewall. I grabbed my bag and went to the bathroom to change while it ran. I straightened the black dress I’d put on and eyed myself in the mirror. I’d probably put on a few extra pounds on my hips over the retreat. I smoothed my hand down the flowy silk of the dress.

It hugged the curves of my body and left little to the imagination. I loved the buttery silk of the dress because it was soft, comfortable, and sexy. I loved that when I moved, it let my curves sway, making me feel like I was embracing my feminine energy. With the lace at my cleavage and the open back, I knew I’d fit right in at the club.

I sat back down and applied smoky eyeliner, then red lipstick, as I waited for the firewall to break down. My screen moved quickly through codes that I knew had to mean something.

“What are you doing?” I heard his voice from far behind me.

Shit. I jumped and slammed my laptop closed.

His eyes were on me, my dress, my red lips.

I shot up from my desk and grabbed my bag. I didn’t want him to see that I’d been tinkering with old data and think maybe I’d stumbled onto something with the Albanians, that I was back to my old habits.

We were past them, right? Or maybe we weren’t, because if they were trying to hack our systems, Cade would need to be told. Better yet, Jett Stonewood and the president had to be told.

I would have to make sure later, though. I couldn’t tell him now or it would look like I had a vendetta. Not after the praise at the end of the retreat. I didn’t want him to look at me like I was a reckless person, not cut out for the job again, I realized.

After all we’d done on that retreat, I couldn’t handle being that to him again, even if I didn’t know what I was now. Sometimes the unknown in the dark, where a person can’t find a damn thing, is better than seeing the reality of it all.

“I was finishing up for the night.”

“Dressed like that?” I glanced down as I saw him eye my body like a starved animal.

“We’re going to the Halloween party at the club down the street.”

“Again, dare I ask, dressed like that?” His voice dropped a few octaves, and I had to clench my thighs to keep from spreading them for him.

I crossed my arms, and he growled when my cleavage bulged. “Yes, dressed like this. Got a problem with it?”

One of those large, tattooed hands shot out to drag one finger over the gold on my wrist. “Since we’re entertaining your damn idea that what was between us was a good time and done, the answer is no.”

“And if we weren’t entertaining my idea?” I whispered because I wanted to torture myself, obviously.

“If you were with me? Wanting to go out dressed like that? We wouldn’t leave the fucking building.”

“Someone is a bit territorial over a little skin showing, huh?”

“No, dollface. I know how to fight. I’m not worried about a guy looking at you wrong. I’ve slit enough throats to combat that.” His tone held menace as he threw around that Armanelli power. He didn’t do it often. It was how I knew Cade still felt something for me. Felt something deep and dark and dangerous. “We wouldn’t leave the building because I’d rip the dress off and bend you over your desk.”

“Cade,” I whispered, taking a step back, knowing I couldn’t resist him if he pushed me much further. And I had to because I felt the heartache of losing him already.

Losing him when I didn’t even quite have him was gut-wrenching. Depressing. And staggeringly more difficult than I’d thought.

“Want me to show you, baby doll? Or are we still playing your silly game?”

“No,” I blurted out and swiped my makeup and purse off my desk. “Find someone else to fuck over a desk.”

He straightened my chair and then leaned on it. “You think I can replace that sinful mouth of yours? Or find a girl who gives as good as she gets and can rival me in hacking, Ms. Hardy?”

“I’m sure you could find someone.” I shrugged, but the idea tore my heart out.

He nodded once, a frown appearing on his face, and he stepped back. Maybe he was letting me go; maybe he’d finally decided I was replaceable. “Yes, Izzy. Maybe I could, but I wouldn’t want to.”

He waved me past him, and I walked out toward the elevators. I tried not to look back, tried not to catch one last glimpse of my heart being left there, bleeding out on the floor.

When I turned, he was still leaning on my chair, his hands fisted around the back of it.

Did he feel it too? The way we were losing something we never really had?