Chapter 117 117. Anonymous Tip
Lucien's POV
I set Camila down immediately, my body going rigid. The man on the floor struggled and snarled threats about lawyers and wrongful detention. My security guard had his knee pressed into the intruder's back, face grim with determination.
"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, crossing to their side.
The man on the floor twisted his head to look at me. Mid-thirties, maybe, with bushy hair.
"I'm making a delivery. This asshole attacked me for no reason!"
"Delivery?" My guard scoffed. "I watched you trying to jimmy Ms. Sterling's door for five minutes before I moved in."
"That's a lie!" He gritted his teeth. "I'll have you arrested for assault."
I crouched down, getting eye level with him. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to tell me who sent you, or my guard here is going to break something important."
"You can't threaten me-"
My guard shifted his weight, pressing harder. I got on my feet and pressed his head to the floor with my feet. The man groaned out loud.
"I'm not even pressing hard enough."
One crunching sound and thirty seconds later, the fight went out of him.
"Ronan Hayes!" he wheezed. "He hired me to get inside and plant some cameras. That's all, I swear."
My chest heaved. Ronan was escalating. I should have known.
"Call the police," I instructed. "Attempted breaking and entering. I want him in custody tonight."
"You can't do this!" the man shouted as he was hauled to his feet. "I'll tell them everything. About Ronan, about what he's planning-"
"Good," I said coldly. "Give them all the rope they need to hang your employer."
Twenty minutes later, the police had him in cuffs and were taking statements. Camila stood behind me with her arms around my waist, hiding herself.
"He's getting desperate." I could feel her shaky breaths against my back.
"I know." I brought her palms to my cheek, breathing in her scent to calm the rage still simmering in my chest. "Which means It's time to bring in Rosalind."
Rosalind Park sat in Camila's living room the next morning, coffee untouched on the table in front of her. Rafael had spread out sample documents, showing her the scope of what we had.
"Wow. This is extensive," she finally spoke, flipping through financial records. "And incredibly damning. But the court will ask how you obtained it."
"We can tell them the truth, can't we?" I leaned back against the couch. "Ronan's personal assistant of five years gave it to us. She was drowning in guilt over the atrocities she'd witnessed and couldn't take it anymore."
Rosalind's expression was skeptical. "And where is this assistant now?"
"Gone."
"So she won't testify, and that makes it a problem." Rosalind set down the papers. "Without her testimony to verify authenticity, a defense attorney will tear this apart. They'll claim it's fabricated, that you manufactured evidence to frame Ronan."
Camila's face fell. "So we can't use it?"
"I didn't say that." Rosalind tapped her fingers on the armrest. "I'm saying we need to be strategic. Have you considered submitting this anonymously to the FBI?"
I exchanged glances with Rafael. "Anonymous tip?"
"Exactly. The FBI receives anonymous tips constantly. If the evidence is solid enough, they'll investigate. Once they verify it independently, it becomes their case, not yours. Camila stays clear of any blowback."
It was brilliant. Simple and brilliant.
"How do we submit it?" asked Rafael.
"I'll handle the logistics," Rosalind said. "You organize everything and I'll make sure it reaches the right people through the right channels."
And that was it! We had a plan.
Three days later, I was at Hayes Corp, trying to focus on budget breakdown for a new factory that felt meaningless compared to everything else happening when a knock interrupted my concentration.
"Come in."
Estella opened the door, but it was the woman behind her that made my heart stop.
Camila stood there in a black dress that hugged her curves, designer sunglasses perched on her head, mask dangling from her fingers. Her auburn hair fell in waves over her shoulders.
"Camila!" I was on my feet in an instant, crossing the office in long strides.
Estella raised a brow before she melted away, closing the door behind her. I pulled Camila into my arms, crushing her against my chest.
A hug wasn't enough. Would never be enough.
I captured her lips in mine, pouring all of the tension and fear and love into it. Then I lifted her, carrying her to the leather couch in the corner. She laughed against my mouth as I settled with her on my lap, kissing her again, much slower and savory this time.
When I finally pulled back, I just stared. Her lips glistened from my kiss, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with happiness. Beautiful. So damn beautiful.
She cleared her throat, suddenly shy under my gaze. "You're staring."
"Can't help it when my girlfriend is so breathtaking." My thumb traced her lower lip. "What are you doing here?"
"I missed your office." She stood, slipping off her jacket. I took it from her, watching the way she moved gracefully and confidently.
Mine. My girl. My Camila.
She wandered around, touching my desk, the bookshelf, the window overlooking the city. I stayed on the couch, content to watch her explore.
When she reached my safe, she turned with a mischievous smile.
"I remember stealing your fingerprints to open this."
"Those were good times." I stood, moving behind her. "You challenged me every single day and I remember how I started looking forward to seeing you burst through my doors everyday with those fire in your eyes."
My arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against my chest. I buried my nose in her hair, deeply inhaling her floral scent.
"And..." I reached past her to unlock the safe. "You don't need to steal anything anymore. Eight-seven-two-four-nine-one."
She went still. "You're giving me your safe combination?"
"What's mine is yours, Fiera." I pressed a kiss to her neck. "All of it."
I felt her smile. Then she wiggled her butt slightly against me, pressing back into my hips. "Mmm. Someone's happy to see me."
My breathing quickened. "A hug wasn't enough."
"No?" Her voice was teasing. "What would be enough?"
Instead of answering, I slid my hand over her dress, dragging my fingers up her stomach and stopping at her right breast. A hitched breath escaped her lips as I squeezed it lightly.
God, the sounds she makes. My cock jumped in my pants, and I pressed it harder to her bum.
Let her feel what her walk, her talk, her scent, her skin does to me.
"Lucien..." She moaned my name sexily.
Now I moved my hand into the cup of her dress, grabbing her bare boob now.
"You feel that?" I rolled her tight nipple between my fingers, feeling it harden. "Your body knows what it wants..."