Chapter 97: How much do you trust Milo Cunningham?

Malachi’s pov

The smoke from my cigarette curled in a lazy, gray plume towards the ceiling. The clock on my computer screen read thirty minutes past one right under the interrogation video of Tyler that our informant in the police station had sent.

"It doesn’t add up," Roman murmured from behind me. He was leaning against a display stand in my work room, wearing his pajama with his arms crossed and brows furrowed.

"The phone call with Tyler was doctored. We’ve run it through a dozen filters. And the CCTV from the ball? There’s not a single trace of him even being at the ball."

I took a deep drag of my cigarette again, the smoke filling my lungs, a temporary balm against the irritation prickling at my skin.

"Whoever was setting him up slipped the fuck up," I blew out another perfect ring of smoke, a small smile tugging at my lips at the image of Ivy squeezing her face at me if I blew the smoke in her face.

"But that doesn’t make sense. The mole has been careful all this time. Why make such a rookie move now?" Ro mumbled.

"He’s getting desperate," I replied, tapping rapidly on the keys. "Someone knows his identity or at least something close to it. I think Tyler did, that has to be why he framed Tyler. But desperate people make mistakes so yeah we can use that."

My brother nodded, giving a low sigh. "Do you know Tyler has asthma? His patient records show it. Must be why he passed out in the interrogation room. Do you think we can trace back who doctored the call?"

I stubbed out my cigarette in the grey ashtray just as thunder rumbled outside in the pouring rain. "I’ll have to ask Milo. He’s the one who ’produced’ the evidence."

"How did Milo even get the audio?"

"He claims it’s a recording of a phone call he had with Tyler," I replied, my eyes scanning lines of code on a screen.

Roman stared at me in disbelief. "Then how could it be doctored? Does that mean Milo doctored it himself?"

We both stared at each other, the possibility was so absurd. Why would our best friend need to doctor a recording of his call with Tyler?

Just then, the familiar, quiet hum of Gideon’s car pulling into the garage filtered through the walls.

I frowned. "He’s back early. Club’s usually his thing until four at least."

I and Ro both walked out into the hallway. A moment later, Gideon walked into the house, trudging down the hallway. He was drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead, his suit dripping water onto the marble floor. But it wasn’t his state that sent a jolt of alarm through me.

It was the way his shoulders were tensed, a furious look in his eyes.

"You two should be asleep,"

"There’s no sleep for the wicked, so why should we?" I replied, cocking my head at him. He didn’t even look at us as he walked past.

Something was very wrong.

"What happened, Gid?" Roman asked as we both turned to follow him.

"It’s nothing," Gideon replied, not breaking his stride. "We’ll talk tomorrow. Go to bed."

I rushed forward and stepped in his path. "Don’t pull that shit with us. What’s wrong?"

He finally looked up, and his eyes were exhausted. "Kai, you’re smoking too much. You should stop with the cigarettes."

I almost laughed at the deflection. "I’ll stop with the cigarettes the day you give up your beer."

"Kai’s right," Roman chimed in, his worry deepening. "What is it? What happened at the club?"

Gideon let out a weary groan, running a hand through his wet hair. "Fine. Can I at least change out of these wet clothes first?"

***

Twenty minutes later, we were lounging in Gideon’s room. Roman had snatched a pack of cookies from the kitchen and I got us some whiskey.

Gideon, now in a towel, finally broke the silence. "Two weeks ago, at the club... I met a woman."

I grinned, a wicked glint in my eye as I shoved some cookies in my mouth. "Our G finally caved? Tell me everything."

"I found out her identity today. It’s the housekeeper."

I coughed, cookie crumbs going down the wrong hole.

Roman shot to his feet, his face a mask of disbelief. "You’re fucking Vivi too?"

Gideon grunted, rubbing the back of his neck. "It certainly wasn’t because I knew it was her. She was wearing a wig. And her eyes... the color was different."

"Let me guess, Amber?"

G’s head snapped up and I cursed under my breath. "I knew it. I think she’s wearing contacts. I saw her on the camera feed from the teddy bear I gave her. Her eyes looked different then, too."

His jaw tightened. "That’s suspicious. Why would she be trying to hide her eye color when she comes to work here?"

"Maybe she just enjoys wearing contacts?" I offered with a shrug, then noticed how quiet Roman had become. "What is it? What do you know?"

Roman shook his head, sinking back into the bed. "Nothing. It’s nothing to worry about. I’m not sure yet." He turned to Gideon. "She obviously likes you, Gideon. She wanted you. So what’s the hassle? It’s not like she’s the first woman we would share."

"She deceived me," Gideon bit out.

"It’s a sex club, G," Roman shot back, his voice rising. "Anyone could have gone there! Isn’t the whole point of using masks to keep identities secret? I don’t think Vivi did anything wrong."

"I don’t like how attached you are to her," Gideon growled. "I’ll make sure she’s fired this Monday."

"You can’t fire the housekeeper because she went to a sex club," I interjected, leaning forward before they went at each other like rabbits.

"That’s weird, even for you. Leave her alone. If fucking her bothers you that much, then don’t touch her."

Gideon was silent for a long moment, then he let out a frustrated sigh. "I don’t think I’d be able to take my hands off her now that I know it’s her," he admitted, the words sounding like they were torn from his throat. "None of my submissives are like her."

Roman and I exchanged surprised looks. Well that was a first. Gideon was always in control.

"So what’s the big deal then?" I pressed. "She’s willing. She wants us. Once we’ve dealt with Kingsley, we’ll be leaving Wisteria anyway. Why can’t you have a little fun, G? All work and no play, bro."

Gideon opened his mouth to argue, but a sharp knock on the door froze us all.

"Deon? Kai? Ro?" Irene’s sleepy, annoyed voice came from the hallway. "Can you guys please go to sleep? Your bickering is keeping me awake!"

I got up to open the door wide, reaching out to pinch Irene’s sleepy cheeks.. "The house is huge, Ren. It’s your fault you chose a room right next to Gid. Go sleep somewhere else."

Duke was right behind her like some massive, shirtless shadow. Why the fuck was he up too? He glared at me, so I promptly flipped him the middle finger. Irene huffed and stormed off, staggering back to her room while Duke remained, his gaze fixed on Gideon.

"What, Godzilla? What do you need?"

Duke ignored me completely, looking directly at Gideon and grunted. "How much do you trust Cunningham?"