Dirty Little Secrets

Ch. 23: The Puzzle Box

EMERY

The last thing I expected to come home to after my night at Club Hades with Damon was a parcel from Quinton sitting outside my front door. I gotta give him credit. The man works fast. I reread the handwritten note.

You looked absolutely radiant leaving the playroom tonight. If you're having difficulties solving the puzzle, I'm only a phone call away. A date for a clue? Seems like a fair trade to me. And trust me, you'll want to see what's inside. - Q

My gaze shifts to the Japanese puzzle box on my desk. I've been to enough antique stores to spot a Himitsu-Bako. A personal secret box. Before encrypted emails and iron-clad safes, these puzzle boxes served as a form of protection for a person's secrets and keepsakes. Only with the correct combination of twists and turns can the box be opened and the contents revealed.

I tap my nails on the sliding pieces that I've spent the majority of the night trying to decipher. He's hidden something inside. Something special. Something secret. My curiosity was piqued the moment I saw the hundreds of wooden panels, but I know where Damon stands regarding my interactions with Quinton. I wasn't going to call him. I wasn't going to give this peculiar box any more thought. I was going to ignore it. Throw it away. Pretend it didn't happen.

Too bad Damon is a greedy little man.

And too bad that I can be a vindictive bitch.

"Emery Jones," Quin coos, answering the phone, "what a surprise. I didn't think you'd be calling so soon. I take it you received my gift. How do you like it? Have you solved the puzzle yet?"

"How did you get my address?" I ask, rolling my eyes as Damon sends me a fifth passive-aggressive message on our inter-office messaging system. "I don't believe I'm listed anywhere."

Quinton chuckles. "Oh, little Emery, Cavanaugh isn't the only man who has infinite resources at his disposal. If I wanted to, I could pinpoint your exact location at this very moment."

"You and Damon both seem to need professional help," I muse. "Most women find the invasion of privacy to be creepy rather than charming."

"Do you think I'm trying to charm you, darling?" he asks, and I can damn near see the smirk on his face. "If I was trying to charm you, believe me, you'd be charmed."

"Do you take me for a snake, doctor?" I ask.

God, he's almost as cocky as Damon.

"Your blood is far too warm to be a snake, darling," he says. "But perhaps you're just as venomous when you want to be." He pauses. "Does Cavanaugh know that you're calling me?"

"Maybe," I say. "Maybe not. Damon's not my keeper. I don't need his permission to call you."

"No?" he hums. "Was that not his ring I saw on your finger last night?"

I frown, glancing down at my bare hand. I only wore the ring while I was inside the club. How did he see it? "I find it incredibly unnerving that you were so close to me that you could see my hand and yet I couldn't see you."

"It pays to have friends in high places, little Emery," Quin taunts. "I bet you won't be able to look at ice the same ever again."

I sit up, eyes wide. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, darling," he coos.

Ice? How would he—

"Are there cameras in the playrooms?"

Quin releases a soft laugh. "Darling girl, there are cameras everywhere. Do you think Madame Vee would allow New York's most influential men and women to fool around without safety measures?" My jaw drops. "Don't worry, Emery, those files are only for the powers that be." He pauses. "And me, when I request them."