Page 48 of My Ghost

Her words hit too close, and I feel my teeth grind.“She already thinks that,” I grit out.

“Then maybe stop proving her right,” Jade shoots back with exasperation.Then she leans forward.“Matteo, you are the smartest person I know and you are my boss and friend, but with all due respect, you’re an idiot.”

Yeah, that fucking stings.Because she’s a hundred percent right.

* * * *

I look at my phone and frown.Still no update.

It has been almost a week since that disastrous night at the karaoke bar, and I have forced myself to stay out of Erin’s way.I’ve succeeded for most of the time, locking myself in my other office at Di Rossi Security Corporation on the ninth floor of The Bastion.Although the shell company is run by a man I trust as the president, I make a point of showing up as the CEO whenever I can.And today this office is my refuge from her.Or better, from myself.

I still stalk her like a lunatic, but a smarter one.I don’t go down to the employees’ lunchroom anymore, but I watch the camera live feeds of the hallway angles, the lobby, the underground garage, the elevators.Every place I can legally mount a camera without crossing a line that would land me in prison, or at least in HR’s bad books.I don’t fight it anymore, this visceral need to see her every second.

I know her schedule by heart now—when she leaves her desk, when she steps into the elevator, when she brushes her hair back with her hand, when she chews on her lush lower lip when she is deep in thought, that adorable frown creasing her forehead.Every little thing she does drives me insane.

I unlock my phone, a sense of foreboding coiling in my chest.

Every night, without fail, her designated driver sends me a message the second Erin steps into The Atrium.But tonight, there’s nothing, despite her leaving half an hour ago, at six-forty-seven p.m.I know because I set up a protocol that alerts me the moment she logs out of her terminal.

At first, I tell myself it’s just a delay.Maybe he forgot, maybe the traffic is bad, maybe she went to the store or out to get takeaway before going home.

Is she at The Atrium?I type.

No, Mr.Di Rossi.We never left.I am still waiting for her to come down.

My pulse spikes.A cold, sharp edge slices into my chest like a blade.

Fuck, where is she?She must have come across another employee and they’re probably chatting in the hallway.That must be it.So I wait, eyes burning into the live feed of the underground garage camera.Fifteen minutes go by.Then thirty.But the thirty minutes stretch into an hour, and by eight p.m.I’m tearing through the security feeds like a man possessed.I start at the third floor the exact minute she logged out of her terminal.

There she is.The grainy footage from the operation floor hallway shows her stepping into the stairway at six-fifty p.m.I frown.Why is she taking the stairs and not the elevator?I switch cameras to the one of the underground garage where her driver is waiting for her.But she never makes it there.She’s gone.

I rewind to retrace her steps through various camera feeds.She moves down the stairs, a large duffle bag slung over her shoulder and opens the door to the second floor.Then she slips into the gym locker room and doesn’t come out.She is still in there.

Just when I’m about to charge down there, the door to the locker room opens and she comes out.

And I forget how to breathe.

She’s not in her work clothes anymore.She’s wearing a dress.A goddamn red dress made of fire and sin, in a sparkling fabric that clings to her like a second skin.Her golden hair is flowing down her back in lush, silky waves and her lips are painted red.She looks like temptation incarnate.My blood roars in my ears, and a slow, red-hot rage coils in my gut.

Where thefuckis she going?Who…?

My jaw clenches as I switch to the next feed and see her gliding down the corridor into the elevator.I switch to the elevator live camera feed.She steps up to the biometric scanner and presses her hand against it.

Access granted.

I frown and pull up the authorization logs of the building.And my blood runs cold, understanding slamming into me.She hacked her way into Second Circle.

Of all the goddamn places…

I switch cameras.The reception desk comes into view next, and that’s when I see it—the bracelet the hostess is fastening around Erin’s wrist.Crimson.

I stand up so fast my chair topples over behind me and slam my hands on the desk.

She wants to play with fire?She’s about to meet the fucking inferno.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Erin