I let him. I had too much other shit to worry about than his delusion that I was trying to steal his best friend.
The four of us sat at a table by the bar. The air was alive with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and shuffling decks, but the merriment did nothing to lighten my black mood.
“How many poker tournaments have you attended in the past?” Josh asked Alex suspiciously.
Exasperation filled Alex’s face. “I told you, this is my first one.”
“Just making sure.” Josh plucked a card from his deck and tossed it on the table. King of hearts. “Since you’d played dozens of chess matches with him”—he jerked a thumb at me—“and I didn’t know about it for literally years.”
Alex sighed.
“If you keep asking the same question over and over again, you can leave,” I said icily. I didn’t have time for Josh’s bullshit.
“Someone’s moody.” He raised an eyebrow. “Is it because Stella broke up with you?”
My jaw flexed while Alex and Rhys hid their smirks behind their cards.
I’d done a decent job of not thinking about Stella tonight until Josh fucking Chen brought her up.
You can’t kill a guest, a voice in my head reminded me.
Actually, I could do whatever the fuck I wanted, but then I’d have to deal with Alex. I also assumed Stella wouldn’t be too happy about me murdering her best friend’s brother.
“I am not moody. You are simply annoying.”
I didn’t know what Stella told her friends about us, but since she’d moved into Alex and Ava’s house, it was obvious we weren’t together anymore.
Josh shrugged. “Perhaps, but at least I’m not single.”
My hand twitched toward my gun.
“Keep provoking him, and he’ll kill you.” Rhys knew me too well. He’d been quiet most of the night, but humor lit his eyes when he looked at me.
“Is something funny?” I tossed out a card without looking at it.
“As a matter of fact, yes. Christian Harper moping over a girl,” he drawled. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
A migraine gathered behind my temple.
“I’m not moping.” It took all my willpower not to punch the shit-eating grin off his face. “I don’t mope.”
What I’d been doing the past few weeks wasn’t moping. It was…processing.
“That’s not what Alex said.” As usual, Josh piped up even though the conversation had nothing to do with him. “He said you showed up to his house in tears the day Stella moved in.”
“I wasn’t in fucking tears!”
The room quieted as every head swiveled in my direction.
I saw Brock’s mouth drop and Kage’s eyebrows fly up out of the corner of my eye.
I never yelled.
Not when I’d found out about Magda’s theft, and not when shit went sideways at work. But it’d been a hellish two weeks, and I’d bled the database of people to fuck with when I had a bad day dry.
There were only so many computers I could hack into before it lost its luster.
I would’ve put more effort into creating a new list of names if I thought it would help, but it wouldn’t.
I didn’t need more people to fuck with.
I needed Stella.
“Oh. I must’ve remembered wrong,” Alex said mildly.
If I didn’t know better, I could’ve sworn that was laughter in his eyes.
“Remember when you gave me shit after the Bridget situation?” Rhys was practically in schadenfreude, that bastard. “You said love is, and I quote, tedious, boring, and utterly unnecessary. People in love are the most insufferable on the planet.” His grin widened. “Want to take that back?”
My teeth ground in irritation.
“It’s deeply concerning that you can quote me word for word. Find a new hobby, Larsen. Obsessing over me isn’t healthy.” I pushed back my chair, too aggravated to sit any longer.
“Where are you going? It’s your turn!” Josh protested. “We’re in the middle of a game!”
I ignored him and walked off with Rhys’s laughter at my back and irritation flickering through my veins.
I had said those things he’d quoted. Now I was one of those insufferable idiots, pining after the only woman who’d ever broken my heart.
Karma was an even bigger bitch than fate.
I entered the kitchen and poured myself another drink. It was only my second of the night. I’d set the trap for the traitor earlier, but I needed to keep my head clear just in case.
Four suspects. Four different pieces of information I’d casually slipped into a conversation about how I’d developed a new device that made Scylla look like child’s play.
The traitor wouldn’t be able to resist leaking that information to Sentinel. Once they did, I only had to look at the details of what was leaked to pinpoint the rat.
It was a simple trap, but it worked every time. I’d just needed to get all the suspects in one room so I could have the conversations without raising suspicion. My men all knew I didn’t discuss these things over the phone.
And if the traitor was who I thought it was…
I drained my glass.
My life was going to shit, and alcohol was the only thing that made me feel better these days.
That and the letters.
My mind flashed to my desk drawer.
“Hey.” Rhys’s gruff voice dragged me back to the kitchen. “You good?”
“Never been better.” The acerbic bite of my words strained the air.
He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. His eyes moved from the tight set of my jaw to my empty glass and back again.
His earlier laughter faded, replaced with sympathy. “You’ve got it bad.”
I didn’t answer.
“How much did you fuck up?” His eyebrows rose when I remained silent. “That much, huh?”
“It’s complicated.”
“These things always are.” Rhys sighed. “Whatever you did, it’s probably not as bad as you think. Stella is one of the nicest people I know. She’ll forgive you. She just needs time.”
Perhaps. But privacy was one of the most important things to Stella, and I’d crossed so far over that line I couldn’t see it.
Her stalker had terrorized her for months, and the fact that I reminded her even a little of the bastard…
The alcohol churned in my stomach.
“Rhys Larsen giving relationship advice. Hell must’ve frozen over.” I brushed over his statement for a safer topic.
Rhys snorted. “It froze the day you uttered the word love in a non-demeaning way.” He straightened and clapped his hand on my back. “If Volkov can get his girl back after a year, there’s hope for you. Just don’t fuck it up again.”
I poured myself another drink after he left and drank it alone in the company kitchen.
My life really had gone to shit.
45
CHRISTIAN
I didn't return home until two in the morning.
My footsteps echoed against the marble floors on my way to my office. I’d grown to hate the walk from the front door. I passed by too many quiet rooms and too many ghosts of our memories.