Turning my attention to the monitor, I take a moment to watch my girl sleep. She hasn’t moved. I’m glad. She obviously needs the rest.
I lean in closer, staring at her. There are no words. I’m reeling from Burke’s insightfulness. It’s possible he’s wrong. I can’t be certain Autumn has ever thought as much about me as her father seemed to believe.
There are giant hurdles. For one, Burke didn’t mention a word about knowing how dominant I am. That’s a simple fact he was aware of. But did he realize how deeply I need a submissive woman in my life? Did he know Autumn was such a woman?
My mind wanders back to the possibilities concerning a relationship with her. If she has a club membership, or perhaps more than one, surely Burke knew. Yet, he said nothing. Not while he was alive or in this letter.
If Autumn does not currently have a Dom or has never had one, how does she know enough to have so easily let the word Sir flow out of her lips? I have about a hundred more questions than I had an hour ago.
I want to fire them off one at a time as soon as she wakes up, but I can’t do that. I would freak her the fuck out. I need to bide my time, treat her like spun gold, and ease her into my lifestyle.
It’s impossible to be sure how much she understands about Doms in general, or Daddy Doms in particular, but she’s about to learn because the reality is that, unless we share the same kink, we have nothing to build on.
I can do everything in my power to show Autumn what it means to be my Little girl, but if her heart isn’t in it, we’ll never make it work, no matter how much her father thought he knew.
Lusting after someone doesn’t make them a good life partner. My feelings for Autumn have been built on a gut sense that she was the entire package. I’ve never had any proof, though.
Forcing myself to drag my attention from my sleeping angel, I reach for the thumb drive and pop it into the computer. It’s time to see this list and make some calls. I have the resources to hunt down any man on this planet, and I will do so. James Burke’s life will be avenged if it’s the last thing I do.
Chapter Five
Autumn
* * *
I awaken slowly. Luckily, I realize where I am before panic sets in. My limbs feel heavy, like I was drugged, probably because I slept hard.
Mace must have closed the blinds at some point, but I can see light around the edges, so it’s not nighttime. But how long was I asleep?
Movement in the doorway catches my eye, and I turn my head to see him coming toward me. He’s smiling as he sits on the edge of the bed. “How do you feel, sweetheart?”
I lick my dry lips. “Like shit. My father died.” I blurt the words as the events of the past twenty-four hours flood back.
Mace takes one of my hands in his and rubs my knuckles with his thumb. “I’m so sorry. I sent a team to your house. They recovered your father’s body and arranged for him to be moved to a facility for an autopsy. It won’t be interesting, though. My men found the source of the poison while they were there.”
I gasp, my eyes widening. “What was it?”
“It was a deadly drug in the water glass that was on his desk. One drop would have caused what you saw. If they had given him more, he would have died faster. Whoever did this either wanted him to linger or didn’t know what they were doing. I’m so sorry.”
I purse my lips, staring at Mace. He could have withheld some of that information, but he didn’t. He told me the truth. I hate the truth, but I would hate it more if he lied to me.
Mace continues, “It didn’t look like a single thing was missing or unusual in the house. Nothing was ransacked. My men will comb through the backup videos for the security system to see if the killer is on tape. The safe was closed, so I assume you reset it after you retrieved the envelope.”
“Yes,” I manage to whisper. “Nothing was out of place when I arrived and found him nearly dead, either. I don’t even know how they got into the house. I didn’t check the back door or any of the windows, of course. I grabbed my purse and the envelope and left soon after he passed.”
“And you drove your car to the airport?”
I wince. “Yes. It’s in long-term parking. Shit.”
“Do you have a spare set of keys in the house?”
“Yes. In the laundry room. There’s a pad with key hooks on it.”
“Do you have the location of where you’re parked?”
“Yes. It’s on a card in my purse.”
“Tomorrow, I’ll relay it to my men and have someone go get it.”