The Wolf Prince's Fated Heart - Page 47

She doesn’t own expensive things. Of course, some people could argue that she isn’t working for a billion-dollar company in order to buy Gucci and Prada’s products. Yet nothing here tells her story. So, where are those interesting tidbits from the past or mementos from her childhood?

With each second that goes by, I’m more and more torn, and it doesn’t get better the closer I look. She works for a tech company. There has to be a computer around here somewhere.

My eyes go up, scanning the small living room area. A laptop. Yes, there it is. I step over to it and press a button, turning it on. It asks for her password. Remembering the information from the files my company has on her, I try her birthday. It works!

Are you sure you want to do this? my wolf asks. It’s unethical.

What do you know about ethics? I counter with a mental chuckle.

We’re invading her privacy in a different way, he argues.

If I remember well, it was you who wanted to make sure she’s not sharpening a knife behind our back, I mutter back, annoyed at the sudden awakening of his conscience.

There are different ways to do that, he insists. We could ask her. Wouldn’t it be better if we talked to her directly?

Does it make you feel better if I tell you that we’re not snooping through her computer? I inquire.

Only if it’s true, he allows, though he doesn’t sound convinced.

I turn the computer around to show him the sticker of the company’s logo. The laptop’s Grey’s Enterprises’ standard issue that is given to the supervisors to take home. It explains why Cassie has it.

Okay, yeah, that does give you the right to go through all the files, he agrees.

It’s all in the contract, I confirm. And not even in the small print.

As the laptop springs back to life, a little box pops up in the middle of the screen.

It’s an email from someone called Tim.

The sender’s name alone infuriates me. I click on the message and almost drop the laptop on the floor.

We should talk about what we saw.

I’m going to go to the police.

Cass, please, call me.

I still love you.

I’m sure Grey is behind it. We should report him.

The messages go on and on, going from one extreme to the other. Blackmail, accusations, angry messages, insults, and fear. I curse under my breath.

Growing up in a royal court, there is very little that comes as a surprise for me. Like wolves, humans are predictable creatures, especially when it comes to their darkest, most manipulative selves.

You should check if Cassie replied to him, my wolf suggests.

I shouldn’t. This is wrong. But my stubbornness wins, and I click on Tim’s profile picture.

There’s an indication of recent activity that sends me into a frenzy. I scroll down the page and check the top few replies, realizing that they’re all from Tim to Cassie. None from her to him, though. That asshole is calling her names while pressuring her into an explanation and confession as if she knows anything.

Maybe she does, my wolf suggests. Why would he be so insistent if she didn’t?

When I open a message that’s even worse, I can’t control my claws and fangs. He really took this blackmail thing to a whole new level, claiming that he has things on Cassie that the world would love to see.

No, but who will you lie to next, Cass? Did you know I had proof of our relationship? Everyone will know. For a whore, you are not even good in bed.

But then the next message is the complete opposite.