Betrayal (Infidelity Book 1) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,83

that sold companionship, but I couldn’t. It was all me. It had nothing to do with the business itself. What I saw was a financial opportunity and took it. Demetri Enterprises was involved from the ground level of Infidelity and that partnership had netted us millions. My biggest fear was that one day the companionship side of Infidelity would be made public. The name, Infidelity, was bad enough. The exclusive website portion was a great cover and actually profitable. It was the companionship side that bothered me. Ashley Madison had been hacked. Infidelity could be too.

On more than one occasion, I voiced my concerns to Deloris. She agreed that while anything was possible, she personally worked with Infidelity techs to ensure that the latest firewalls and preventive measures were constantly in place.

“Was it compromised?” I asked, my question coming out more as a growl while I forced my shallow breaths to enter and exit from my nose.

“No, sir. The information is secure. It’s something else. Something that I found yesterday.”

She handed me a large manila envelope.

Releasing the clasp, I pulled out a picture, one printed on standard white paper. The medium made the photo grainy but that didn’t stop me from recognizing the woman. I knew her immediately, every inch of her.

“What the fuck?” I asked as I checked the envelope for more information. “What does Charli have to do with Infidelity? How the fuck…?” I couldn’t make the necessary mental connections to form articulate questions.

“I have more,” Mrs. Witt said. “I have her profile. But I thought maybe you might not want… well, you’d said you didn’t.”

“She has a profile?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes, it was just created yesterday. From what I’ve seen, she was interviewed yesterday by Karen Flores. Ms. Flores’s comments were favorable. Her recommendation was to accept… umm… Charli’s application for employment, contingent upon the results of her medical and psychological evaluations. Miss Charli signed the agreement of intent.”

I turned my head to the window, trying to tether the rage flowing rapidly through my system. If this were a man delivering this news, I might very well have punched him, but it wasn’t.

“Lennox,” Mrs. Witt said in a more placating tone. “I found this before it was forwarded to anyone. No clients have been considered. Besides the customary employees—doctor, psychologist, Karen, photographer, and assistants—no one knows about this. All of those people are bound by confidentiality.”

“How? Why?”

“I’m not sure of how, other than that a gentleman named Cyrus Perry is her sponsor.”

“Cyrus Perry, that name sounds vaguely familiar.”

“He’s not employed by Demetri or any of its subsidiaries. I’ll look further into him,” she said as she scribbled a note in the margin of her notebook.

“Why?”

“From the profile, it appears as though she has had a recent loss of financial stability. She had a trust fund that’s now gone. She’s recently been accepted…” Deloris’s voice trailed away. “I’m sorry. I’ve probably already said more than you wanted to know.”

“She’s been accepted…?”

“To Columbia Law.”

Columbia Law School is here. Charli’s here in Manhattan.

“This profile was completed yesterday?” I asked. “Blocks from my office?” Infidelity had expanded to numerous locations throughout the country, yet Charli had been blocks from me.

“Yes, sir.”

If she had financial problems she should have called me. Why the fuck didn’t she call me? Did she delete my number? My jaw clenched and unclenched. Silence prevailed as my thoughts swirled. They were a tornado, a violent cyclone capable of massive destruction. Clenching my teeth, I tried to calm them, at least a little.

Finally, Mrs. Witt asked, “Would you like me to call Ms. Flores?”

And what? Tell her to reject Charli? If she’d been willing to do this for money, what would she do if this didn’t work? As much as I hated Infidelity, the people there did a good job of insuring the health and wealth of their employees as well as the anonymity of their clients.

“No, Deloris. Give me Ms. Flores’s direct number. I’ll call her.”

“Sir, I don’t need to remind you that using your office or home phone…”

“No, you don’t.”

Deloris reached into her purse and pulled out a flip phone. “This is a burner.”

I nodded. “Thank you. Thank you for bringing this directly to me.”

“Her profile?”

I sighed. “I would assume that if I asked Ms. Flores about Charli she wouldn’t know who I was speaking about?”

“That’s correct. The name on the profile is Alexandria Collins.”

Alexandria Collins?

Where the hell did Charli come from?

As memories of Del Mar and 101 settled the storm in my head, I