Darius.
Breaking into the office of a man like Charles Cartwright was the kind of s**t that got you killed—or worse. Lucky for me, I wasn’t the type to care about consequences when there were answers to be found. Answers I would trade my life for—few times over.
Not that I would get caught.
The hallway leading to his office was quiet, too quiet. Even the usual hum of voices or the faint sound of footsteps on the marble floor were absent, which suited me just fine. Hunter was keeping tabs on Elise—probably bitching about how he had to be the first one to babysit her—and Jace was off nursing a hangover that would put most men in a grave. That left me with a golden opportunity to do what needed to be done: slip in unnoticed, retrieve what I came for, and leave no trace behind.
The massive
