Older || 18+

16. Ares

Emma didn't get much schoolwork done over the weekend, and I'm mostly to blame. I couldn't keep my hands, or mouth, off of her. I enjoyed seeing her a needy little mess, begging for release. Begging for my cock. But I wouldn't let her have it, at least not where she was craving it the most. I need her to show me what a good little girl she can be before she can fully have me again.

When Monday rolls around, I know I have to leave the house and give her a chance to focus on her studies. She has class three days this week and is supposed to talk to someone about her internship. She's excited, but nervous, and I can tell. She wants to make a good impression, and I understand why. But she practically already has this internship in her pocket. She is only one of two students they are interviewing for this.

And although I don't doubt her ability to get this internship on her own, I think of ways to find out the company details. A sizeable donation on behalf of her wouldn't hurt her chances. But I know that Emma wouldn't agree to that, so I decide to keep that option to myself.

With her in class, I'm able to get some work done. I'm able to track the funds further, getting a name and akst of associated names. But it doesn't give me the answers I'm looking for. Whoever is doing this is good. They're covering their tracks well. But not well enough.

My phone rings, Charles, one of my business partners, name flashing on the screen.

"This is Bradshaw," I answer, leaning back in the chair.

"Mr. Bradshaw," he greets, his voice professional. "How are you?"

"I'm well," I reply, wondering what he wants. "What can I do for you, Charles?"

He clears his throat. "I was wanting to check on your progress. See if you have found anything yet."

I don't like being checked in on, like a child. I am a forty-six-year-old man. I own this company. I'm so tired of partners acting more important than their holding percentage.

"I've found a name," I tell him, my tone short. "But that's it. Whoever is doing this is good. I'm doing checks to find an address. Shouldn't be too much longer."

"Good, good," he says, sounding pleased. "We'll get to the bottom of this, I'm sure."

I end the call without another word, irritated by the conversation.

I shake my head, refocusing on the task at hand. I have to find this asshole.

As I wait for the background checks on the name to come back, I continue digging, uncovering a list of shell companies. It's a lot to comb through, but I'm determined.

After hours of searching, I find something. An email account linked to one of the companies. I hack into the account, finding a string of messages between the owner and an unknown recipient. The emails are vague, using coded language, but the intent is clear. This person is laundering money.

I print the messages, hoping the information is enough to start piecing things together.

I lean back in my chair, taking a break. My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I haven't eaten since breakfast.

I get up and make a sandwich, then head out to the deck. The weather is perfect, a slight breeze in the air. This is such a nice house. I wonder what Julie does for work. Maybe it's alimony from her previous marriages.

It makes me think about how little I know about Julie, or even Emma, for that matter. I know what I can see. I know what I unintentionally learn, like Emma's internship, but do I really know Emma? What is her favorite food? Does she prefer sweet or savory? What is her ideal date? What are her hopes and dreams for the future?