T.J. tore his attention from the doorway and scowled. “What do you mean?”

Brute shrugged, acting as if his words weren’t a bombshell. “I sure as hell didn’t show her where the bathrooms are.”

Shit. Panic washed over him. “She couldn’t…” It would have been impossible for her to get into the Vault. “You handle all entry information. How could she have been down here without you knowing?”

Brute narrowed his gaze. “Is that accusation I hear in your tone?”

No. It was fury. How the fuck had his wife gotten into Vault of Sin without his approval? The how, what, where and when assailed him. Was it recently? Had it been all those months ago when the Vault first opened? Or maybe a few nights ago at the masquerade party, hiding under a disguise to watch him disrespect their marriage vows.

“When?” he asked through clenched teeth. “How could this happen?”

His mouth dried as he tried to figure it out. The Vault was locked when not in use. Dead-bolted. On event nights, not only did the downstairs entrance have a digital alarm, the upstairs door and parking lot entrance were both manned by security guards. If she was callous enough to try and attend a night the Vault was open, she would’ve had to go through the approval process—photos, ID, approval at the door. It was impossible.

“Maybe she took a wild stab at where they were.” He glanced at Brute in hope.

His friend raised a brow, not needing to back up his disbelief with anything other than his confident stare.

Fuck. “It had to be Shay.” She’d been a pain in his ass since the news of his divorce.

Brute narrowed his focus to a glare. “Accusing Shay without evidence is going to land you in a world of hurt.”

As if he wasn’t there already. “For her sake, I hope I’m wrong.”

Shay was a friend, but above all else, she was an employee. One that seemed more committed to gossip than her duties to their business. She’d asked one too many questions about his divorce. Had followed him around like gum stuck to his shoe. And when Cassie had showed up tonight, Shay hadn’t been surprised at all, as if they’d planned the reunion together.

“Hold on a goddamn minute.” He turned toward the room his wife had disappeared into. “Shay has never met Cassie before. Why the hell did they seem familiar with one another when Cassie turned up tonight?”

Brute’s lips twitched slightly as he shrugged again.

Motherfucker. Something was going on, and it was about time T.J. put a stop to it.

“You better not be involved.” He pointed a menacing finger toward Brute’s chest and stormed away, hell-bent on finding the answers he couldn’t live without.

Chapter Thirteen

Cassie was washing her hands in the basin when the bathroom door was flung open, hitting the wall with a deafening crack. She turned, startled by a remembered sense of fear from a similar situation, and stared at the fury in T.J.’s eyes as he loomed in the doorway.

“You’ve been down here before.”

She snapped her gaping mouth shut and schooled her expression. Breathe. She broke the words down in her mind, hoping to convince herself they were spoken in jealousy, not hatred. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His nostrils flared and his large frame inched forward, for the first time coming toward her with menace. “You gave yourself away.”

She turned back toward the basin, lowering her head as she calmly grabbed the hand towel and dried her fingers. “I gave what away?”

He growled, the deep rumble of his chest caressing her ears. He came up behind her, grabbed the towel and threw it back onto the counter. “Look at me.”

She swallowed, raising her focus to the mirror and the furious man staring back at her. For a second, she was scared, not of him, but of how their marriage was turning into more of a mangled wreck with each passing second. Soon it would be unsalvageable. Soon all hope would be lost.

He grabbed her wrist and spun her to face him. Although he was angry as hell, his grip was in contrast, a light caress, a loving brush of fingers. She turned to him, glimpsed the sadness in his eyes right before his gaze fell to where they touched, and he dropped his hold.

Emotions flickered across his features—heartache, yearning, confusion, before finally morphing back to anger. “Answer me,” he snarled.

She scoffed. “From my understanding, all you’ve done is fling accusations at me. I’ve yet to be asked a question.” She stepped into him and raised her chin so they were almost eye to eye. “And even if you were demanding answers from me, you have no right anymore. I’m no longer your concern.”

“Don’t play with me, Cass.” He stepped into her, thigh to thigh, menacingly close.

She’d never been immune to his dominance. Outside of the bedroom, they were a regular couple. Scratch that. Outside of the bedroom, they were an enviable couple, their love evident to anyone who witnessed them together. Behind closed doors, the parallels of their relationship changed. He was no longer the protector. He was the predator. The man with an insatiable need for her, a passion so carnal she woke up in a sweat from mere dreams of it.

“I can’t stand seeing you this way.” His nose scrunched in distaste. “Spite doesn’t look pretty on you.”

Spite? Spite! Could he not see she was fighting for her life here? For his love?

“Yeah?” She raised a brow in defiance. “Well, being a coward doesn’t look favorably on you either.”

“I’m not a coward, Cass.”

“Hmm?” She narrowed her gaze. “Then what would you call it? You’re running away from a perfect marriage. You’re hiding from something you can’t even tell me about. If that’s not cowardice, I don’t know what is.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know.”

“Because you won’t tell me.” Her voice turned to a plea.

“It’s better this way. I need you to come to terms with that.”

“No. You need to come to terms with me not giving up on us.” Her tone lacked conviction. Her heart too. She couldn’t take much more of this. Fighting for a man who no longer wanted to be fought for. Battling for a cause that had already been lost. “Until I have all the answers, I can’t give up. I need closure.” She stepped into him, resting her forearms against his chest. “Tell me why you need this divorce. Tell me what changed if it wasn’t that night in Brisbane.”

She ran her tongue over her bottom lip, unable to stop herself when he was so close. Her mouth ached for him. All she needed was a kiss. A connection. She’d convince him to stay from the slightest contact.

“You still desire me.” She didn’t break their stare. “I think you always will.”

“You’re right. But my attraction to you was never in question.”

She balked at his honesty. “Then what is it? Don’t you love me anymore?”

Her fingers clung to his shirt, her gaze raking his features, scouring for answers. She was inching closer to where she needed to be. If she knew what she was fighting against, she could better equip herself. She’d no longer be battling in the dark.

“Tate, please tell me.”

His gaze softened, his lips parted as if poised to speak. Then the shield went down, his forehead scrunched in annoyance, and he stepped back with a derisive laugh. “You almost had me.”

He shook his head, ran a hand over the darkened stubble of his chin. “But let’s get back to the real reason I’m in here, shall we?” Her heart dropped at the returned venom in his tone. “Tell me, Cassie. When did you come to the Vault without me?”

Hell. How the fuck had this turned back to him? He couldn’t think straight around her. She was confusing him. Changing the subject without him noticing. He hadn’t come in here to succumb to the emotional plea in her eyes. He’d come for answers.

“How did you get in?” he grated, attempting to act in control even though he was backtracking, stepping away from her.