11. Yvette

Chapter 11

Yvette

The morning light pours through the window, spilling warmth over me like a cozy blanket. I wake up snugly wrapped in Banks' arms, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against my back. It's a perfect blend of comfort and security, a stark contrast to the whirlwind that has been my life these past weeks. I could lie here forever; lost in the haven we've created.

But then, the peace is shattered by a loud banging on the front door, jolting me from my blissful state. The sound reverberates through the house, causing my heart to pound in my chest. I glance back at Banks, who stirs, his brow furrowing as if he's trying to process the intrusion into our little slice of paradise.

"Stay here," he mutters, rolling out of bed in one smooth motion, quickly pulling on a pair of well-worn gray sweatpants. It's an effortlessly sexy look, and I can't help but admire how he wears them.

I'm not one to sit back and let someone do all the work to protect me. My instinct kicks in, and before I can think better of it, I throw the covers off and head to the closet.

Scrambling to find something to wear, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt, hastily tugging my hair up into a ponytail. There's no time to waste. I need to figure out what's happening.

I tiptoe out of the bedroom, catching a glimpse of Banks standing in the hallway, his expression hardening as he approaches the front door. "Who is it?" he calls, voice steady despite the urgency. I see a gun tucked in his back waistband and realize he's expecting trouble.

No one answers immediately, but the banging returns, louder this time, and I can see the tension in his shoulders tighten. Something feels off, and my gut instinct is screaming at me to be alert. I join him at the door, peeking around his broad frame to catch a glimpse of what's happening outside.

"Yvette, stay back," he warns, sending me a decidedly serious look. But the fierce determination in his eyes motivates me to lean forward, curiosity getting the better of me. "I told you to stay in the bedroom."

"I'm not good at doing what I'm told." He'll learn soon enough.

"I should've known," he mutters, jaw tightening. "Stay behind me until we make sure it isn't Richard."

He cracks the door open to find Dillon Armstrong standing on the front porch, flanked by two deputies.

"Morning, Banks," Dillon says, his voice casual, but there's an underlying current of urgency. "Sorry to barge in on you like this, but we've got some news."

Banks eyes them, assessing, and I can see his instincts kicking in. "What's this about, Dillon?"

"Richard," he says, and my stomach sinks. "I need to talk to you and Yvette about him."

The sheriff and his two deputies step inside, turning our cozy space into something serious and tense.

"Hey, you guys want some coffee?" I offer, my voice brightening in an attempt to ease the tension, but they all wave it off.

"No, thanks," Dillon Armstrong replies, settling down at the kitchen table with Banks and me. "We won't be here long. Just need to lay out the situation."

I sit up straighter, my stomach tightening with anxious anticipation. "What's going on?" I ask, half-expecting to hear that Richard has vanished completely.

Dillon leans forward slightly, his expression serious. "So, after Richard was fired, things got messy. He retaliated by tearing up his office. His bad decisions didn't stop there. He stole his work laptop on the way out."

I blink, trying to follow what he's saying. "Has he lost his freaking mind?"

"It looks like it. He emailed confidential firm secrets to clients and employees," Dillon explains, his voice steady but heavy. "He pissed off enough high-profile people to cause the firm to take immediate action. They tracked the computer which led to Richard's arrest."

Relief is my immediate reaction, but each revelation hits like another layer of ice, and I shiver at the thought of what Richard could've leaked. This is going to be a nightmare for my former firm. "What does that mean for us?" I ask, casting a worried glance at Banks, who's watching this all unfold with a glimmer of concern in his eyes.

"The firm isn't fucking around," Dillon continues, leaning back slightly, his brow knitted. "Clients don't take kindly to the risk of their private information going public. So, Richard's got much bigger problems than the charges he's facing here in Silver Spoon Falls."

I let that sink in, knowing Richard's antics will have repercussions well beyond our little town. "He's in deep," I mutter and brace myself, waiting for Dillon to continue. Banks shifts beside me, that ever-present protectiveness radiating off him.

"Richard is in federal custody right now," Dillon explains, his eyes scanning our faces for signs of reaction. "He'll be facing charges in Houston first. After that, the authorities here in Silver Spoon Falls will determine if he's going to face additional charges for the car accident."

I can feel the words sink in, the weight pressing down on my chest. "And how serious are we talking about?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady, but the need for answers is clawing at me. I should be able to figure this out for myself, but my mind isn't quite up to the task at this moment.

Dillon leans back in his chair, an expression of concern etching deeper lines around his eyes. "To put it bluntly, Richard's facing enough charges that he will end up in jail for a long, long time. We're talking about years, almost certainly until he's old and gray if the court decides to throw the book at him."

"That's great," I echo, the realization leaving me a little breathless. The thought of him locked away for a long time sends relief flowing through me.

"With the mess he's created, I'd be shocked if he manages to wiggle out of this," Dillon advises, his voice thick with certainty. "They've got evidence, and now with the firm turning on him, things aren't looking good for him."

Banks stiffens beside me, relief rolling off him in waves. "I knew he wouldn't just walk away from this. It's about time he got what he deserves."

"As much as we want closure, remember, the wheels of justice can turn slowly," Dillon remarks, his tone reminding us that it's not over until the court has had its say.

"God, I know," I reply, realizing it could be years before this even goes to trial.

"I'll keep you updated." With that, Dillon stands, letting us know when he's done, and I can feel the tension ease just a fraction. Once he leaves, Banks turns to me, his expression switching gears.

"You alright?" His tone softens, genuine concern woven into it.

"Heck yes," I reply, sagging with the relief of knowing the whole situation is pretty much over. "I can't imagine Richard having any time or energy left to screw with me after the shit show he created."

He nods, pulling me close, and I lean into him, letting his warmth wash over me. "I'll take care of you, no matter what."

"And I'll take care of you." I reach down and wrap my hand around his cock. Even through the gray material, I can feel how it grows long and hard in my grasp.

"I love the way you think." He smirks and lifts me up in his arms.

"And I love you." I wrap my arms around his neck and hold on as he races for the bedroom.