Chapter 167: Caught red-handed.

I lean back carefully in my chair, ignoring the dull ache in my abdomen as I pull up the security footage on my office computer.

And there she is.

My beautiful little troublemaker.

Sitting comfortably behind my desk, surrounded by my documents as though she owns the fucking place.

A smile slowly spreads across my face.

Well, isn’t this interesting?

I watch her pick up one folder, flip through a few pages, then put it aside before reaching for another.

She’s being careful, too....trying not to disturb anything or put anything out of place.

How adorable.

I almost laugh.

"Don?"

I look up to find Fernando still standing in front of my desk.

"What?"

He follows my gaze to the computer screen. His eyebrows rise when he recognises the woman sitting in my office.

"Is that...?"

"My wife."

"I can see that, Don."

"Then why the fuck are you asking?"

He clears his throat, wisely deciding not to respond.

For a few seconds, he watches the footage with me.

"Should I have someone retrieve her?"

I turn my attention back to the screen.

"No."

Fernando looks at me.

"No?"

I shake my head, a smirk tugging at my lips.

"Let my wife enjoy herself. I’m curious to see what she’s looking for."

He glances at the screen again.

"Would you like me to inform you if she finds anything?"

I give him a look.

"Fernando."

"Yes, Don?"

"Get out."

He nods immediately.

"Of course."

He gathers the documents on my desk and heads towards the door.

Just before leaving, he turns around.

"Try not to strain yourself, Don. Rocco was very specific about your bed rest."

I stare at him.

"Are you my fucking doctor now?"

"No, Don."

"Then leave."

He smiles faintly and disappears through the door.

I shake my head and return my attention to the screen.

My wife is still searching.

She pulls another folder towards herself, opens it and begins scanning the pages. Occasionally, she pauses to read something more carefully.

Interesting.

I wonder what exactly she thinks she’ll find in there.

I take a sip of water and settle back into my chair.

For someone who claims not to care about my business, she’s certainly putting a lot of effort into understanding it.

I watch her reach for her phone.

Oh?

She takes a picture of something on the desk.

My smile widens.

Well, well, well.

I tap my fingers against the armrest, thoroughly entertained.

Mi peque?o motín.

What exactly are you planning to do with that information?.

——————

Nerissa’s POV

Finally!

I think I’ve found something.

After what feels like an eternity of going through folders, financial statements and documents I barely understand, I stumble upon a file containing information about one of Lysander’s smaller businesses.

I pull it closer and begin flipping through the pages. There are several transactions listed, alongside dates, figures and the names of companies involved.

Most of it looks insignificant but somewhat important...Exactly what I need.

I scan through the pages until my eyes settle on a particular transaction.

It’s a payment made to a company for a business arrangement. Nothing particularly suspicious, nothing that looks important enough to cause serious problems but it might be enough to give Uncle Lorenzo something.

A little breadcrumb.

Something to keep him satisfied while I figure out what to do next.

I glance towards the door, it’s still closed.

Good.

I quickly take out my phone and snap a few pictures of the page. I zoom in to make sure the figures are clear before saving the pictures.

Perfect.

Now I just need to put everything back where I found it and get the hell out of here.

I close the folder and reach for the next one when a familiar voice suddenly comes from behind me.

"Find anything interesting, peque?o motín?"

I freeze, my heart practically jumping into my throat.

For a moment, I forget how to breathe.

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!

This is bad. This is very, very bad.

I slowly turn around and there he is.

My husband.

Standing at the doorway with one hand resting against his abdomen, looking thoroughly amused.

His lips are curved into that infuriating little smile I have come to start liking.

Oh, I’m so screwed.

My eyes immediately travel to his stomach, to the bandages.

"What the hell are you doing out of bed?"

I ask, trying to deflect.

He raises an eyebrow.

"That’s an interesting question coming from someone who just broke into her husband’s office."

I blink.

"I didn’t break in."

His eyes move towards the desk then back to me.

"Really?"

"Yes."

He looks at the documents scattered across his desk.

"Then perhaps these files arranged themselves this way?"

I follow his gaze.

Shit.

I quickly look back at him.

"I was just looking."

"Looking?"

"Yes. Looking."

He nods slowly, as though considering my explanation.

"And what exactly were you looking for?"

I hesitate.

"Nothing."

His eyebrow rises another fraction.

"Nothing?"

I shrug.

"I was curious about your businesses. Is that a crime?"

He stares at me and for a few seconds, neither of us says anything.

I can practically see the amusement dancing in his eyes.

He doesn’t believe one bit of what I’ve just said.

Not one fucking bit...but surprisingly, he doesn’t argue.

Instead, he walks deeper into the office.

My eyes follow him as he moves with a slight stiffness, one hand occasionally pressing against his abdomen. I immediately notice the way his expression tightens whenever he takes a longer step.

Idiot.

What is he even doing walking around like this?

Rocco specifically told him to rest and yet here he is, wandering around the house like he wasn’t shot twice a few days ago.

I fold my arms.

"You know, you’re supposed to be resting."

He gives me a faint smile.

"And you’re supposed to be in your office not mine."

I press my lips together.

Touché.

He continues walking until he’s standing right in front of me.

Too close.....Much too close.

I take a small breath.

I’m scared. Of course, I’m scared.

Anyone with a functioning brain would be terrified of being caught snooping through the private documents of a man like Lysander Sanchez.

Especially when that man happens to be her husband.

But I try my very best not to show it....i won’t let him intimidate me.

I refuse.

So I swallow and look up at him.

Damn him and his stupid height. I have to crane my neck just to look him in the eye.

My neck is already beginning to hurt from the position, but I refuse to give him the pleasure of backing down.