the six of us, the founding members of ROGUES, we’d stumbled upon our passion and turned it into a diverse global business that kept us all busy, and we enjoyed every second. Sure, we all could have sat back and done fuck all for the rest of our lives, but where was the fun in that? But Athena had become collateral damage, cast adrift on a stormy sea she hadn’t worked out how to navigate.
The stealing she’d admitted to had to be an outward sign of an internal struggle, a cry for help, a way of rebelling against the world.
And Tanaka had taken advantage of her.
Cold fury surged through me, eliminating any possibility of sleep. Throwing back the covers, I showered, then paced the living room, planning what form my retribution on Tanaka would take, because one thing was certain: that bastard wouldn’t get away scot-free.
My revenge might not come today, or tomorrow, but it would eventually. I’d been blessed with an abundance of patience, the ability to stay calm in the most challenging of circumstances, as well as having access to limitless resources.
I opened my briefcase and took out the file on Tanaka. There wasn’t much information, but that was because I’d asked for the bare minimum. I hadn’t needed a full background check—then. Things had changed.
I snatched my cell phone off the table and sent a text to Scott Daniels, a damned fine investigator and one I kept on the payroll, ensuring my needs always came first.
Priority one. Full sweep on Hiroto Tanaka.
He replied instantly. Timeline?
Yesterday.
He sent a row of laughing emojis.
I replied with a ticking clock meme.
Tossing my phone on the couch, I ordered room service and a copy of the Wall Street Journal. I could read it online, but there was something retro about holding an actual newspaper—even if it did leave ink on your fingers—that appealed to me.
The food and, more importantly, a pot of coffee, arrived within twenty minutes. I poured myself a cup and sat at the table to drink it and read the paper. Whether Athena smelled the food, or she was just an early riser, I watched as her door opened, and she padded out, still swaddled in the robe. She’d covered herself properly this time, thank Christ. I didn’t need any more temptations placed in my way.
“Coffee?” I asked, picking up the pot.
She nodded and sat adjacent to me. Placing one foot on the chair, she hugged her knee to her chest.
I poured her a cup, added a dash of cream, and placed it down in front of her, then removed the covers from the plates. “There’s eggs, bacon, toast, and pastries. If you want anything different, let me know and I’ll have it brought up.”
She reached out and picked up a croissant, taking a delicate nibble. A crumb stuck to her lips. I had to draw on every single reserve to stop myself from leaning over and licking it off.
“This is fine. I’m not that hungry.”
Needing to keep my hands busy, I picked up the Wall Street Journal and opened it. “How’d you sleep?” I asked breezily.
“Okay. You?”
“Fine,” I lied.
She sipped her coffee, staring out of the window. I peered at her over the top of my newspaper. I’d never known her to be so quiet. Athena didn’t do quiet.
I folded the paper and set it on the table “Talk to me.”
She shrugged. “Nothing to say.”
“I disagree. Given your parting shot a few hours ago, I’d say there’s plenty to discuss.”
She blinked slowly, then glanced my way. “Don’t sweat it, Ryker. My life’s a fuckup. So what?”
I raised my eyebrows. “So what?”
She bit into the pastry, then cast it aside while chewing slowly. “I’ve accepted I’m going home, okay? Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Let’s not,” I said, my tone crisp and direct.
Her flat gaze worried me, her ever-present sharp tongue dulled to an alarming level.
She blew out a breath through pursed lips, the action puffing up her cheeks. “Why do you care? Oh, wait. That’s right. You don’t.”
She got to her feet and stepped over to the window. She folded her arms over her chest, one hip jutted slightly forward as she transferred her weight to her left foot.
“I do care, actually.”
She snorted but remained with her back to me. “Sure, Ryker. Sure you do.”
I was about to continue the argument when there was a knock at the door. Athena spun around.
“Who’s that?”
I pulled my lips to one side. “Probably Elliot,” I said nonchalantly.
She shot me a horrified