9. SUTTON

The scariest thing about Danya, way before he pulled that gun out was the size of his dick. And even then, I feared his cock was still the biggest weapon he'd had. And strangely enough, I wasn't scared of it.

He threatened to starve me if I didn't get a lead, which wasn't a threat at all. Some days, I survived off energy drinks and coffee before realizing I hadn't eaten. Although the way he threatened me with the slight Russian in his accent was turning me on. I needed to cool it and keep my cock calm before it got me into trouble again.

There weren't any leads jumping out at me. I'd been looking. It was something I might have had more luck at if there were more people helping, but I couldn't trust anyone. Not Danya, and certainly not anyone at Myriad. I wanted to mention them to him, but bringing Myriad into this would've set something into motion I couldn't control.

It had been hours of me tapping away at keys, looking for backdoor access into information that went straight into dead ends and security lockdowns. I'd never felt so sloppy looking for answers in my entire life.

Danya cleaned the mess he'd made before he'd kidnapped me, and while I'd been here. There was a paranoid side to him, and it had me on edge. I didn't want him to change his mind in a split decision that it was actually me, but I knew that it could happen. Mobsters, mafia, and those types of men weren't the most collect and levelheaded. Fortunately, I'd only ever dealt with one of them, and he'd been my friend's fiancée, so not quite someone who was trying to kill me.

"Takeout has been ordered," he said. "Have you made any progress?"

I hadn't. But there was one person I could mention. I held my tongue for a moment.

"It's Chinese food, so if you don't like it, more for me, but if you do, then I need a progress update," he said, spinning me in the chair at the breakfast bar. "Well?"

"There's a guy on the police force, he's a prolific hacker. His name is Santiago Zims," I revealed. "He's good at what he does, and he knows how to clean any step he takes. But he's on the force. He'd never do anything to jeopardize that." I knew he wouldn't because Maura wouldn't have allowed that to happen.

"You think he has answers?" he asked.

"I—" My jaw clenching. "I don't know, but he's older and more skilled than me. Plus, if there's someone who has it in for your family, it's gotta be someone on the force, right?" I was keeping my distance from how I knew Santi, but it was information I needed to use to make sure he didn't think I wasn't being serious.

"The family pays enough money to the force," Danya revealed, nodding. "I don't believe that. If I give you a list of names, you can search their bank information for any large movements. Correct?"

"I can try my best," I said.

He pushed a hand between my thighs, parting them. "And if you make a list of these names on your laptop, I cannot be blamed for any actions that are taken." He grabbed at my cock and balls. "Understand?"

"Understood," I squeaked.

"Are you always hard like that?" he chuckled. "Or does my touch turn you on?"

"This entire situation has got me hard," I admitted. "You know how many times I've fantasied about being kidnapped and used? No, you probably don't know. I'm dick depraved, and having had some dick, of course I'm all chubbed. The pressure is intense, there's a gun in your holster, and a weapon in your slacks." I grabbed it like he grabbed mine. "And all I can think about is how your family might surprise us at any moment, and all that I'll be able to remember is how ten minutes of sex with you was the best sex I've ever had."

I hadn't intended on saying any of that for him to smile. "You're a thrill seeker, huh?" he squeezed his hand harder around my cock. "What about pain? Does it make you feel something? I bet it cures some of that loneliness you must feel."

Squeezing his cock harder than he grabbed mine. "I don't need to be psychoanalyzed," I said beneath my gritted teeth. "But if you want, we could talk about how your family doesn't give you any real power, so you take power where you can, like in the form of all those guys who have such little muscle mass you overpower them at every corner."

He freed my cock. "You forgot to mention they're all so submissive to me. But maybe that's why I like you more than them. You fight back a little. It's fun."

I continued to keep my hand on his cock, not breaking eye contact with him. "And I'm far from lonely," I said. "I'm selective with who I make friends with. And I hate being used by so-called friends or family. But you've settled for being used, haven't you?"

He stopped smiling. "Enough," he said, whacking my hand away. "I'll make you a list of officers. I want details of all money going into their bank for the last month."

I swirled back around to my laptop. "Give me their names," I grumbled. "And should I add Santiago to that list? In case it is him and I've blown this whole thing open."

Danya let out a deep chuckle. "If you do, maybe I'll let you sleep in my bed."

I wondered if he'd put a sheet on it yet, otherwise I might've preferred to sleep on the hard floor. "And where would you sleep?"

"See," he snickered, opposite me on the breakfast bar. He rummaged through his drawers. "You're playful. But remember, I'm in charge. And if you sleep in my bed, you will do so with me." He grabbed an envelope and a pen, scribbling names on the back of it.

"Aren't you worried I'll leave in the middle of the night while you're asleep?"

"Aren't you worried I'll tie you to the bedpost?" He smiled at me, leaning across the counter. "I'll make sure one hand is free for you to keep working, but I'm not playing little games like, what if Sutton tries to escape, because little boy, you will never like the outcome." He booped a finger on the tip of my nose. "I promise you."

I didn't know if he intended on getting me so hard that I needed to slip my cock into my waistband. "I know you said you believe I didn't take the money, but if we're open and honest with each other, would you have killed me if you found out that I did?"

He pushed the paper across to me. "I never said we would be open or honest," he said. "And no, I would've made sure you gave the money back. It's a lot of money. My family, on the other hand, they might've hurt you."

"But you wouldn't?" I asked. I didn't know why I was pushing him on it. Perhaps it was the feeling it gave me. A tickle, breaking out all over.

"No," he said. "Find them. Now." He snapped his fingers.

Looking at the long list of names, I wondered if there was a cop in this city that wasn't on their payroll. And at the bottom, he'd listed Santi's name. I'd asked him to put that there, but it wouldn't be surprising if he knew him already. "How do you remember all these?" I asked, surprised there was something going on in the upstairs department of Danya's body.

He grunted. "If we get caught, we know we have someone on in the inside that we can trust and talk to," he said. "This information is only for the family. Nobody else has this information. So, do your searchy search, and then we can figure out who is fucking us over."

I wanted to find something for him, he was clearly going through it. I'd seen people go through it like this before. They were searching for anything, something to cling to put themselves back into the good graces of their family. I had been him when I considered Myriad my family.

"How much is your family usually paying these people?" I asked, after finding two officers and their bank statements. It was easy to find it when you had access to the backdoor of the internet. "I don't see any big deposits. Usually, a couple hundred going into savings here and there throughout the month."

Danya glared at me. "You think we move our money in bank transfers?" he scoffed. "Use your brain. They get hard cash money. You're not looking into my family. You're looking for any large amounts, like a hundred thousand, or a million. Something so obvious a child would notice."

"Forget I ever asked," I grumbled, looking back at the laptop screen. Danya's family must've been deep in the police force, it was almost scary to think about all the crime they'd committed and gotten away with. And they paid people to clean their tracks for them.

The phone by the door buzzed. "If you don't find anything, you don't get food," he reminded me as he went to answer the door.

I wondered if Danya knew the power I had at my fingertips. I could've called a SWAT team to raid his apartment and find me in there being held hostage. I could've mimicked his father and texted him an emergency SOS asking him to meet. But I didn't. I wanted to help him. It was surprising even to me. Maybe because it was a challenge, and I hadn't felt challenged in a while.

None of the names he'd given me, or Santiago came up with anything. I couldn't trust anything I found on Santi though. He knew how to create false documents and float them out there on the net. I was hoping he'd gotten sloppy since leaving Myriad to work for the police force.

"You can eat," Danya said, coming back to the counter in the kitchen. He placed the large white plastic bag filled with containers on it. "I might've ordered a lot. I eat when I'm stressed." He gave me a nasty side eye. "Not like that matters to you. Ok."

"Is it possible that the money was taken by someone on the inside?" I asked, testing a pressure point in Danya's familial relationships.

He scoffed, a smile forming on his lips. "They thought it was me, so I suppose it could be someone in the family. But don't say that to anyone, otherwise you could end up eating a bullet." He opened the bag, pulling out the contents of it. "And what about your friend?"

"Not my friend," I corrected him. "And no. A dead end. He's so good. I can't even tell if he forged his way into his job, or whether he got it on his own." I didn't want to dig any deeper. I knew Santiago would've had files under watch and trigger to alert if someone opened them. But those files were easy to figure out by looking at their properties and knowing certain strings of code.

"Are there more people like you?" he asked. "People who steal and give to the poor."

"Yeah, but we steal from billionaires. We take from people who don't see the money leave. We comb through accounts in offshore accounts, and we make sure that not to take from people who might kill us," I said. "And one thing we never do is leaving any of our information like some calling card." Which is how they'd pinpointed me as their suspect. "Someone planted that information."

Danya grabbed bowls for the wonton soup and plates for everything else he'd bought off their menu. "Make your list," he said. "And contact your friends, maybe. Someone must know who did this."

Someone had to know. And I wished it was me. I nodded at him. My stomach letting out a deep unsettling grumble.

"You can eat first," he said. "But afterwards, I want some answers. Understood?"

"Got it," I said, nodding. "I'll try and find something." It was entirely possible that someone was doing this for something I'd done years ago. There were certain things in this community that people didn't do. They didn't use your tag, but if they did, their goal was to wipe you out, either by death, or imprisonment and never being able to touch another computer in your life.

With a little food in him, Danya didn't seem as angry. He even smiled at me as he made small talk about my life.

"Pretty much, I give every cent I steal to charities," I told him. "I made money before. I get a nice return on it. It's in stocks."

"You know, you were a little right," he said, smirking and gesturing with his fingers almost touching. "You are a little like me. We both get money from people. Except, we offer protection, and you give it to someone else. It's a waste, really."

"I don't think it is," I said. "There's a huge issue with poverty in this country. You're collecting money with the purpose of buying a flashy car or a new fancy house, or coffee machine. Some people struggle to afford rent, food, to—to—to take care of their children, and the rich get richer." I was telling on myself there. Everything I did was to try and stop families from breaking apart like mine did because of things out of their control.

"Hey," his voice came softer. "I think what you do with the billionaires is good, they don't miss the money. My family are not billionaires. Sure, I have relatives in Russia who live like billionaires. We have money, and the name of the game that my family play is, fuck around and find out."

I looked at the spring rolls and dipping sauce on my plate. "I guess you'll never understand what you've got until you don't have it anymore," I said it, but I didn't know if he was taking it in.