Page 55 of My Craving

“The woman Duncan knows as Daniela started appearing regularly in Nathan Whitmore’s social circle about five years ago,” Alessia explains. “That’s the point we’re concentrating on. We know Daniela Norris existed long before then. What we don’t know is whether the real Daniela was still the person using that identity when Nathan began bringing her to galas and private functions.”

I follow the timeline on the screen, finally understanding the distinction. They aren’t trying to prove Daniela Norris is fake. They’re trying to figure out whether someone stepped into a real woman’s life.

“What happened to the actual Daniela?”

“We don’t know yet,” Ronan says. “I’m looking for her.”

“And you think the woman using her name is behind the photographer?”

“The apartment used to send the email connects directly to her,” Colton says. “That makes her our strongest lead, but it doesn’t tell us why she’s doing it.”

I look back at the Whitmore information. “Why not Nathan? If he introduced her to Duncan, he could be the one using her.”

“He could,” Colton says. “We haven’t ruled him out. We just don’t have anything connecting him to the photographer or the apartment yet.”

Ronan continues working while he adds, “The business motive is weak too. The Whitmores are old money. They protect what they have, and they aren’t particularly innovative or aggressive unless someone puts an opportunity directly in front of them. An attempted takeover is one thing. Building a false identity around a real person, getting that woman into Uncle Duncan’s social circle and then having someone follow him years later is considerably more complicated.”

I can’t argue with that. I hunt predators, not billionaires fighting over companies, and everyone around this table understands that world better than I ever will. What I do understand is people hiding behind identities that make them look harmless, and something about this woman has already made Ronan start pulling hers apart.

Declan has gone quiet again. His attention stays on the screen while the rest of us talk, one hand closed tightly against the table. Nobody calls attention to it, and I don’t either. I’ve seen enough of this family now to understand the reason without having it explained. Whoever the woman calling herself Daniela Norris really is, she came after his dad.

By the time we finish going through everything they’ve found, I’m ready to crawl out of my own skin from sitting still for so long. I can spend hours researching someone, but I’m usually moving while I do it, pacing around my apartment or getting up every few minutes because staying planted in a chair this long makes me fucking restless.

I push away from the table and stretch, lifting my arms over my head until my shirt pulls up across my stomach. Duncan is already watching me when I catch sight of him, his attention fixed on the exposed strip of skin above my jeans. I could pull my shirt down. Instead, I stretch a little farther and give him a wink before turning to follow everyone else out.

I barely make it into the hallway before Duncan comes up behind me, close enough that his breath brushes my neck when he lowers his mouth toward my ear. “You like playing with fire, boy.”

His voice is quiet enough to keep the words between us, and the warmth of his body against my back makes it very tempting to lean into him. I turn my head until I can see him over my shoulder instead. “I like the heat. It’s all warm and cozy.”

Duncan’s hand closes around my hip for a second, the pressure firm enough to make the warning clear before he lets me go. I grin and blow him a kiss as I walk away, already wondering how long he’s going to let me keep pushing before Daddy decides he’s had enough.

Chapter 27 Duncan

We don’t stay for dinner. Nash needs clothes, and although I have no intention of letting him return to either of his apartments alone, there are things he’ll need if he’s staying with me. We head back into the city instead, and I take him to the penthouse first. Earlier, when he told me the estate wasn’t what he expected, I almost mentioned that I had another home. Seeing his reaction seemed more entertaining.

I park beneath my building and take him up through the private elevator. I own the penthouse along with five other apartments, three occupied by members of my security team and two kept empty when they aren’t needed. Kenji lives directly below me. I considered buying the entire building years ago, the way Declan did with his, but there was never a practical reason.

The elevator opens directly into the penthouse, and Nash walks out ahead of me before slowing as he takes in the open living space and the wall of windows overlooking Philadelphia. “Now this is more what I pictured.”

“What exactly did you picture?”

“This.” He gestures around us as he walks farther inside. “Very clean. Very expensive. Not a throw pillow in sight.”

I look around at the furniture I chose because it served a purpose, and the surfaces kept clear because I see no reason to cover them with things I don’t use. “I spend enough time surrounded by chaos. I don’t need to come home to it.”

Nash runs his fingers over the marble island as he enters the kitchen. “I can tell.”

The estate is different because Alessia decorated it. She insisted that if I was going to sleep there, it needed to feel like someone actually lived in it. I chose everything in the penthouse myself, and until Nash started wandering through it, I’d never considered it particularly empty. Now I’m noticing how little of me is actually here.

Nash turns back toward me. “I need to go home and get some clothes.”

“We’ll get whatever you need, but you’re not staying there.”

“They’re after you, Duncan, not me.”

I cross the kitchen and stop in front of him. “Someone entered your apartment without you knowing they were there. Until we know who did it and why, you aren’t sleeping there alone.”

He looks ready to argue, but whatever happened when he found those photographs has apparently made more of an impression than he wants to admit. “Fine. I’ll go tomorrow. I doubt I could sleep there tonight anyway, knowing someone was inside.” His expression changes as he stretches his arms over his head and exaggerates a yawn. “Mmmm. And boy am I sleepy.”