DAVE
Damien strolled into the dimly lit living room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His expression was a bit of annoyance and curiosity as he took in the sight before him. I sat sprawled on his couch, nursing a drink like I owned the place.
“What the hell are you doing in my house at this hour?” he asked, his voice tight with irritation. “Shouldn’t you be home with your wife?”
I ignored him, tipping my glass back and swallowing the burn of the liquor before setting it down with a soft clink. “Do you have any men available?” I asked, getting straight to the point. “I need someone to hack into this phone.”
Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out Emmeline’s phone and placed it on the table between us. I had taken it while she was in the shower, and by now, she was probably turning the who
