“Breakfast should be waiting for us. Do you want a robe?” His green eyes twinkled at the question. Did he think I was going to say no? Maybe I’d eat breakfast naked one of these days, but not today.
“Please.” He settled a thin, white, french terry robe around my shoulders. I wondered what else I had hanging in that closet. I hoped I’d have time to explore it later. Maybe when I found out what ‘later’ would bring.
3
Leigha
A wheeled room service cart waited just outside the front door of the penthouse. Dylan rolled it in to the table where we’d eaten the day before. I took a seat, the smell of coffee and food reminding me I was hungry. Dylan put the covered plates, cups, and coffee on the table, then pushed away the cart. Before I realized what he was up to, he’d picked me up out of my seat, sat down in his own, and arranged me in his lap.
“This is better,” he said into my ear. I squirmed on his lap, feeling weird about sitting there to eat. Wasn’t I too heavy? Putting a voice to my thoughts, I said,
“I’ll crush your legs. I can sit in my own seat.” His arm tightened around my waist.
“No fucking way. You feel perfect, and you can eat right here.”
Hmmph. I made a rude sound in my throat but gave up on sitting in the other seat when he lifted a bite of omelet to my mouth. Ham, cheddar cheese, and rich, creamy eggs. Yum. The other plate had French toast with home fries. Double yum. I let Dylan feed me for a few minutes, unasked questions simmering in my mind. I was learning that I was more likely to get what I wanted if I let Dylan have his way, at least at first. Besides, I was starving.
The eggs were mostly gone when I finally put up my hand to stop a loaded fork. “I’m full, for now. I want some coffee and I want to talk about the video.”
Dylan put the fork back on the plate and poured me a cup of coffee, adding a splash of cream, exactly the way I liked it. He didn’t say anything until I had the cup to my lips and was taking the first sip.
“Axel got the video. His guy followed Steven from the Delecta to his hotel and grabbed him. Axel and his team went through everything. It’s wiped it from every source.”
“Did Steven send it out?” I asked. I guessed the answer was no since Dylan was so calm. But I’d feel better if I heard it straight out.
“No. He had it backed up on a cloud server, but he left tracks everywhere. Axel followed his steps personally and verified the video was gone. They took his laptop and his phone and scared the shit out of him.”
“And then?” I asked. I’d only seen Axel twice, but his foreboding expression at the hospital was enough for me to know I never wanted Axel to try to scare the shit out of me.
“Then they let him go,” Dylan said, suddenly not meeting my eyes. He covered by pulling the French toast closer and cutting it into bite sized pieces with the side of his fork.
“They let him go?” I asked, putting down my coffee. “Why didn’t Axel have him arrested? Because they had to break into his hotel room and then destroyed evidence?”
Dylan cleared his throat. “Not exactly. I think you should go in and press charges later today. But when Axel found out who Steven owed money, he decided he’d let things play out instead of calling the cops.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. The night before I’d been in shock. Not physically, but mentally. My only focus had been on stopping Steven from sending out that video. I hadn’t exactly been evaluating the finer points of the situation. Now that I was safe from Steven and the video was erased, my brain was kicking into gear. If I hadn’t had the threat of the video hanging over my head, I would have reported Steven to the police. So why hadn’t Axel done that as soon as he’d made sure the video wouldn’t go out? Dylan’s answer wasn’t reassuring.
“He hurt you, Leigha. He deserves to pay. Axel saw you in the hospital. We think the same way and he didn’t even have to ask me. When Steven admitted he owed Sergey Tsepov money, Axel decided to let Tsepov handle the justice part.”
“Who is Sergey Tsepov? What will he do to Steven?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
“Russian mob,” Dylan said, shortly, still not meeting my eyes. “And I don’t know what Tsepov will do to him. Nothing good.”
“Dylan-” I cut myself off. I wasn’t sure what to say.
“What?” he asked, finally looking at me, his eyes blazing. “The police would throw Steven in jail and maybe he’d do some time. After seeing you getting sewn back together, Axel assumed I wouldn’t want to wait that long for payback. He was right.”