Chapter 5 Gigi, or Tia?

Dylan's POV

The couch has a faint dip in it, a small dent in the cushion where someone sat, but the sheets on the bed remain smooth. No lipstick stains. No stray hair. No open condom pack. No proof she was ever here except for what's in my head and on my phone.

I stand at the edge of the mattress and stare into the room like it would make her pop out from wherever she was hiding. After all, she feels like the type to play games, except if this is one, then I’m nothing but a sore loser.

I lift my phone again. The banking app glows in my hand, clinical and calm.

Transfer successful.

Amount: 20,000.00

Recipient: Tia Kravhus.

My thumb hovers over the details even though I've memorized them already. One flick and I can see the timestamp, the reference ID, the account name again. Tia. Not Gigi.

Anger rises slow, like something thick heating in a pan. My jaw tightens. I set the phone down harder than necessary. The screen dims, plunging the room into softer shadows.

I'm not used to being on this side of the equation. I know girls always flock around for my money but at least I get what I want from them too. I call the shots, I decide what goes and how it goes. I always have the upper hand.

A sharp pain in my palm draws my focus and only then did I realize I’d been piercing my palm with my finger nails. Fuck.

I exhale through my nose.

I should have expected it. I met her at a club. That should have been enough of a warning label. But she didn't giggle on command. She didn't rush over when I sent for her. She made me come to her. I took that as a sign she might be different and that’s on me.

My reflection in the window looks like a bad painting. Bare chest and trousers with an extremely tight jaw. Somewhere out there, people are still in traffic or at dinner or counting cash. Up here, I'm standing in a half-dark room getting sentimental about a girl I knew for less than two hours.

I pick the phone back up. Anger sits beside something else now, something sharper at the edges. "Gigi." It must have been a fake name, an alias. I bet the name on the account is her real name. Then again, she explained it too quickly so perhaps she wasn’t lying or… it’s something she did and said so regularly that it now comes out on instinct.

I should be furious. I am furious. But I can’t deny that there’s something about it that intrigues me. Also, the name Kravhus… no, it can’t be. My fingers tighten slightly around the phone. 

The secure line buzzes in my work phone before I could further smoothen my thoughts. If it were up to me, I’d ignore any and everyone else right now but this… I don’t have much of a choice.

I walk up to the table where it lay and switch phones.

"Yeah," I say.

The familiar voice answers, flattened by encryption. "You sound pissed."

"It's late," I say. "What do you need?"

"Update. Have you made one on one contact yet?"

He doesn't say a name. He doesn't have to. The target has had two meetings with my company now. I’d set things up to ensure we would meet one on one soon enough. And then I’ll tighten the noose that’s already going around his neck.

My eyes flick to the transfer screen still glowing faintly on the other phone. Tia Kravhus looks back at me.

"Working on it," I say. "Soon."

"Soon as in tomorrow, or soon as in 'stop asking'?" he asks.

"You know I like to work on my own pace. Besides, I had other business tonight."

"Your company or Personal?"

"Somewhat personal."

A pause. I can almost see his face, the way his mouth twists when he wants to ask more and decides not to.

"Keep me posted," he says instead. "We're getting pressure on this one. They want a result."

"They always do," I mutter.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I heard you."

"Good. Try to get some sleep. You sound wired."

The line goes dead.

I stare at the dark screen for a moment, then set the work phone down next to the other one. Two halves of my life side by side on a cheap wooden nightstand.

One reminds me of a job I'm supposed to be focused on. The other shows twenty thousand I shouldn't have let go so easily.

I pick the second up again.

Recipient: Tia Kravhus.

She could have used a fake account but she didn't. She’s either sloppy, or new, or thinks she's untouchable. None of those options would fly with me.

My thumb scrolls idly through the details again, like the motion might reveal something I missed. It’s not necessarily about her, it’s about my fuck up and the fact that I was blindsided. It’s my principle to never leave loose ends and this girl… she just became one.

Tomorrow, I'll run her name. A quick background check to see if "Tia Kravhus" is real, if it’s actually her or someone else like she had claimed. And to confirm my other suspicion. 

I take the glass from the table, pour a small amount of wine, and walk to the window. The city stretches out below in scattered lights. From up here it looks almost gentle. You can't see the scammers, the money wires or the people running them even though the dark is where they shine.

I sip, slow, letting the burn sit on my tongue.

"Gigi," I say under my breath, testing the sound of it again.

It feels wrong now. Unfinished. I look back at the transfer notification glowing faintly in the dark.

"Or is it Tia?"