As much as it sounded like fun to be the CEO of a multibillion-dollar hospitality company and the leader of an exceptionally lucrative criminal organization, it was really just a whole lot of work.
Thankfully, I'd always done well in school, as had Zed. We each had a degree in business administration, as well as post-grad degrees in event management and finance. Zed, being a couple of years older, had been able to tutor me through a lot of the coursework, which allowed me to get my qualifications through online learning rather than attending an actual college. Not as prestigious, but who gave a fuck?
That level of education meant that I wasn't relying on other people to tell me the truth. I could cross-check their work and know for myself if anyone was ripping me off, as our first three bookkeepers found out the hard way.
Thankfully, the fourth one had a bit more of a brain in her head and hadn't tried to screw me yet. She was also perfectly unflappable and didn't even bat an eyelid whenever I randomly dropped in to review the books and check end-of-night reports. Zed and I quietly joked that she was the Mary Poppins of the crime world. She was always so prim and proper, despite managing money from sex workers and drug deals.
"Good morning, Ms. Wolff," she greeted as I quietly let myself into one of the lush fifty-fourth-floor offices that Copper Wolf occupied. Here, in the bright light of day, I was Daria Wolff. Honestly, all my names used to confuse me, but now they came as easily as slipping on a coat when it was cold out.
"Good morning, Macy," I responded with a polite smile. "You look lovely today. Is that a new scarf?"
Her smile widened, and she touched her perfect, nude-manicured nails to the floral silk scarf around her neck. "It is, thank you. I was about to order coffee. Would you like one?"
"That would be great," I replied, passing her and pushing open the door to my own office, next to her one that she’d just exited. It wasn't an office I used particularly often, but it was nice to have a workspace that wasn't in the dark bowels of a nightclub or on my own sofa.
I switched my computer on and leaned back in my high-backed chair with a yawn. Macy followed me into my office a couple of minutes later, placing two external hard drives down on my desk with a smile.
"Coffee will be up shortly," she told me. "Any questions, let me know."
She let herself back out, closing the door softly behind her, and I selected the first hard drive. Silver for Copper Wolf records, black for Timberwolves. Anyone who tried to say that it was too risky to keep digital documents was living in the damn past. Digital was a million times more secure than an antiquated paper-and-ink record just waiting to be stolen and used in court.
So long as you had a great security system, encryptions, and a self-destruct sequence to wipe the data if anyone unauthorized accessed it, which I was lucky enough to have, then digital was the way to go.
I plugged the silver hard drive into my computer and went through the process of entering my passwords. There was a soft tap on my door before I’d even opened the first spreadsheet, and Macy's assistant silently delivered my coffee to my desk.
The next several hours disappeared in a flash as I cycled through the last week of spreadsheets across all my Copper Wolf bars and clubs—there were seven of them now—and then reviewed the profit and loss statements for my vodka brand.
When I finished on the silver hard drive, I took a break to pee, stretch, and check my messages. Then wished I hadn't checked my messages.
Lucas: Please don't ignore me. I need to explain. I had no idea Seph was your sister; she only ever called you Dare. Why Dare, by the way? Were you a reckless kid? I could see that. Then a winking face.
Fuck me. Lucas Wilder—totally not his real name—had balls of steel. Any other guy would have already skipped town, changed his name seventeen times, and possibly looked into plastic surgery by now. Not Lucas, though. Nope, he still wanted a chance to explain.
I couldn't figure out if that irritated me or impressed me, but I seemed to be leaning towards the latter.
The reason I wished I hadn't read it was because I was having a hard time not replying to him. Christ, I'd known the kid—because that's exactly what he fucking well was—for all of three days, and he'd already got under my skin worse than anyone else since Chase's death.
It was so damn tempting I sat there with a reply screen open for ages. Then a new message came through, and I breathed a sigh of relief that I had a distraction.
Zed: You okay, boss?
I frowned, then tapped my reply.
Hades: Yeah, why? Something happen?
The little bubble that said he was typing popped up, then disappeared, then reappeared, and my eye twitched with irritation.
Right when I was about to call him, his response appeared.
Zed: Nothing new. Just checking in.
Weird. I frowned at his message for a moment, then hit call at the top of the screen. It only rang once before he answered.
"What the fuck, Zed?" I asked in lieu of a greeting. "What was that about?"
"What? I just hadn't heard from you this morning." He didn't sound strange... Maybe I was overthinking things.
"So?" I wrinkled my nose in confusion. Then understanding dawned. "Oh, you're worried that seeing my Darling logo on Sonny's corpse has sent me into a dark place, huh?"
There was a long pause, and I knew I'd guessed right.
"I was just checking in, boss," Zed replied eventually, his tone neutral. "Nothing more to it."
Bullshit.
"If you say so, liar," I muttered. "I'm at Wolf HQ checking the reports, but I'll call when I'm done here. The contractors for Timber ran into some city council red tape that needs to be lubricated."
"Understood. I'll wait on your call then." Zed was back to his usual polite respectfulness.
Annoyed, I ended the call without another word, then drummed my fingertips on the desk a couple of times. Seeing that tattoo had shaken me, no question, but it had also felt like something shifted with Zed and me. Like we were us again, for just a couple of hours. I missed that.
Releasing another sigh, I tossed my phone aside and plugged the black hard drive in. I may as well put my restless mind to good work staying on top of every facet of my income streams.
Timberwolves documents took a whole lot longer to wade through, thanks to every single folder being encrypted, but by the time I was done, I felt a whole crapload calmer. Control freak coping mechanisms.
Macy was still at her desk when I dropped the hard drives back, and she politely bid me a good night as I left the office.
My phone rang as I stepped into the elevator, and I frowned when I saw the caller ID.
"Vega," I said on accepting the call.
"Hades," he replied, sounding grim. "Got news for you."
A groan rolled through my mind, even though I knew Sonny-boy hadn't been a coincidence. Still, did it all have to happen at once? Didn't mysterious bad guys ever take a break for normal life?
"Get on with it then," I snapped to hurry him the hell up. I despised dramatic pauses, unless I was the one using them.
"Couple of college kids over here in Dogwood were taken to the ER this weekend. Suspected PCP overdose." Vega sounded less than pleased to be delivering this information to me, but I had to give him props for calling me himself and not palming it off on his second.