The thought startled her. She wasn’t the type to lust over men she barely knew. Putting it down to too many emotions near the surface—stress, grief and anxiety mixing together and messing with her head—Leila straightened her blazer, trying to focus. “What do you think you’re—”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Davis spoke over her. “I’m so excited to join Petrov Armor. I can provide any assistance you need,” he added, only a hint of sarcasm there, probably so small Ben wouldn’t notice.
But Leila sure had. She felt her face scrunch up with disbelief as Ben looked back and forth between them. But before she could toss Davis out of her office, one side of those lush lips lifted in a slow grin. It was a smile half full of amusement and half full of confidence, like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
What kind of game was he playing? Did he honestly think she was going to let him screw with her company, with her employees?
She smiled too, but infused hers with enough warning that he should have taken a step back. It was a trick she’d learned long before rising to CEO, back in university when walking home from the library at night meant passing drunk guys who thought it was acceptable to follow. It never failed to drop the smirks off people’s faces.
But Davis stepped closer, held out his hand. “I think we can work well together to do what needs to be done.”
Nervy. She should have expected it from an FBI agent. And he should have expected her to immediately call his bluff. But as she looked past that cocky grin into his steady gaze, she saw something she hadn’t expected, something that looked like honesty.
“Thank you, Ben.” She flicked her gaze to her young head of HR, who opened and closed his mouth like he was trying to figure out what to say. Then he nodded, stepped backward out of her office and shut the door behind him. Leaving her alone with Davis.
“I’m letting you stay out of pure curiosity,” she told him, crossing her arms over her chest. “But you’ve got about two minutes to explain why I’d let you run this charade. Then, I’m tossing you out and my lawyer will be back down at your office, asking questions about the FBI’s ethics.”
Instead of looking worried, Davis stepped closer, his gaze locked on hers in a way that made the hairs on the backs of her arms stand up and each breath come faster. Then, he was holding a folder up between them, almost in her face.
She frowned and stepped back, taking the folder. One glance and she understood the cocky grin he’d given her. It was a close-up of a piece of body armor. It had been pierced by three bullet holes. And there, stamped on the edges in their trademark, was the Petrov Armor logo and a rating that should have stopped the kind of bullet that had made those holes.
Her gaze returned to his, as dread rose from her gut and seemed to lodge in her throat.
“We’ve tracked this to a recent batch of armor. I don’t believe you know anything about this or I wouldn’t be telling you. So, right now you have two choices—keep my cover and let me figure out how this defective armor got out, or blow it and bring the rest of my team down here to tear apart this place until we find the truth. We’re getting warrants right now.”
Leila looked at the photo again. It could have been faked. Or the bullets could have been some new form of armor-piercing technology that their armor didn’t protect against. But deep down, she knew something was very wrong in her company.
A recent batch probably meant it had happened on her watch. The way the company was set up, this wasn’t a sloppy error. It was intentional, someone trying to destroy what her father had spent so much of his life building.
She lifted her gaze back to Davis’s, suddenly understanding that he—and the FBI—might be her best bet to find the person responsible. That letting a stranger try to tear apart her company could very well be the only way to save it. A secret investigation might find a single person responsible, might allow her a chance to save Petrov Armor. A public one—no matter the outcome—would destroy them.
“I want you to keep me updated on everything you do here. If I agree to this, you let me be involved in the investigation.” She held out her own hand, the way he’d done before. “Agreed?”
That smile returned, smaller and more serious this time, as he put his big hand in hers and shook. “Agreed.”
With that single touch, Leila hoped she hadn’t just doomed her company.
ULTIMATELY, IT DIDN’T matter if Leila Petrov was unaware that defective products were being delivered to the military. As the CEO, she was responsible for what happened here.
Ultimately, she was responsible for every piece of armor that had been sent overseas with the promise to save lives that had betrayed the soldiers who’d worn it. That made her responsible for every single death. Including Jessica’s.
That truth would be easier to accept if Davis wasn’t more impressed with her with each passing minute. The woman was tough. So far, as she’d walked him around the office and introduced him to her employees, he could see that she was respected. Sometimes grudgingly, but most of them seemed to genuinely like her as a boss.
Then again, most of them seemed to have truly liked her father. They kept touching her elbow or bowing their heads, sadness in their eyes as they spoke his name. Still, if Leila hadn’t known about the defective products, what were the chances her father hadn’t either? The more he saw of their process and security as he walked around, the lower those
