The Contract With Her Father's Billionaire Rival-Chapter 68. The Lead.

"A lead?" Nicolette asked, panic rising inside her.

"Yes ma’am," Detective Hector said. "Is it possible for you to come and identify the suspect?"

"Yes, yes," she answered quickly. "I’m on my way."

"Alright, ma’am."

Nicolette ended the call and turned to Alaric.

"What was that?" Alaric asked, his face contorted with confusion.

Nicolette cranked her neck before she spoke. "That was the police department. I was informed that they have a lead concerning the fire."

Alaric’s eyes sharpened. "Do they want you now? Let’s go."

The eagerness in his tone got to her, and she rushed to get her shoes. Together, they left the room and headed to the car.

"Drive us to the New Orleans Police Department," Alaric told Trainer, who was talking to another bodyguard.

Trainer nodded and got into the car. Nicolette followed, her heart pounding. She knew her father was responsible for the fire, but now, with more direct evidence, she was terrified.

"Hey, we’ll get through this together," Alaric said, holding her hand.

The unexpected touch sent shivers down her spine and she shuddered, her legs suddenly tensing.

She removed her hand from his, afraid he could tell the desire in her body. "Thank you," she said softly.

Alaric kept his hand to himself and turned to the window. He was silent for a while before he spoke again. "I’m sorry about Alexa. I knew you saw what happened, but it wasn’t like that."

The sincerity in his voice touched her heart, but anger found a way there too. She wasn’t just angry—she was jealous.

She was jealous that he had spent such romantic moments—mistake or not—with someone other than her.

But she couldn’t tell him that.

Besides, anger was a better emotion to explain.

"Yes," she said flatly.

"Baby..." Alaric’s voice softened.

He didn’t touch her, but her breath hitched like he did.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage, threatened by the fire that was burning; the fire that still hadn’t been satisfied.

Alaric moved closer to her and a gasp escaped her lips. "Punish me with anything else but your silence. Please."

His fingers traced the outline of her face and she swallowed, fighting the urge to cling to him, to open her body for his exploration again.

He kissed her lightly on the lips, and her world exploded. She clenched her fists, forcing them to her sides instead of around his neck.

"Baby..." he breathed, lowering his lips to her neck, kissing that hollow spot, driving her crazy.

Nicolette couldn’t hold it anymore. Not with her panties getting soaked, not with his breath lashing against her throat, sending shivers down her spine.

She wrapped her hands around him and he crushed his lips to hers.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the partition roll up. Alaric rubbed her thighs, pushing her closer to him.

She felt his desire as his hands roamed around her body. She climbed him, pressing herself to him. Her tongue buried in his mouth, his hands squeezing her butt.

Then she stopped, lifting her head.

"What?" Alaric asked, his voice hoarse, his eyes dreamy.

Nicolette leaned in to listen, to be sure. "I think we’re here. The car isn’t moving."

Alaric paused. "Ah, true."

She climbed off his legs, her desire now more heightened than before.

She had to take it out.

She badly wanted to.

"Are you good?" Alaric asked as he adjusted her hair.

She kissed his hand, taking one finger into her mouth.

What was there to pretend? She couldn’t hold on anymore.

Alaric gasped, closing his eyes as his finger danced in her mouth. "Baby..."

"I know," she said, biting her lips.

What was wrong with her?

She was supposed to be serious about seeing who was responsible for the fire at her gallery—not be hot for Alaric.

She exhaled, gathering herself together.

Focus, Nicolette. Focus.

Alaric kissed her on the chest and then adjusted her hair. "Let’s go."

Together they stepped out of the car, holding hands.

"Miss Voss," a man in a white shirt waved at her. When he saw Alaric, he smiled sheepishly. "I mean Mrs. Allens, my apologies."

"It’s okay," Nicolette said. "Detective Hector?"

"Yes, ma’am," he said, extending his hand.

"Nice to meet you," Nicolette said, shaking him.

He shook Alaric’s hand and they all walked into the police station. The place was buzzing with activity.

Officers in uniform attended to people, the rowdiness filled the air, making Nicolette nervous.

She had only been in a police station once, when she had to bail Robert out after his fight with some thugs.

Then she had been terrified by the idea of criminals locked up in the same building as guns. Now, it was worse.

Alaric squeezed her hand and she gave him a smile. Even though she was still a little annoyed, she was glad he was here with her.

They followed Detective Hector up a staircase and then stopped at a glass door.

"Welcome to my office," Detective Hector said as he opened the door. "Please, have a seat."

Nicolette and Alaric sat in the chairs he gestured to.

"Right," Detective Hector said as he sat. "We didn’t stop our investigation. It has just been slow."

Nicolette nodded her understanding. "I appreciate that."

"We found the source of the fire."

Panic surged through her. "Okay?"

"Our investigation suggests the fire was initiated by an external ignition source," Detective Hector explained, leaning forward.

"So you’re saying the fire was started somewhere and thrown into the gallery?" Alaric asked, his voice rising with surprise.

"That’s correct, sir." Detective Hector nodded.

Nicolette paused, not knowing how to feel about this information. It was painful to think someone had thrown fire into her gallery.

For what? Why?

The pain hit her chest and she clenched her fists.

That was her mother’s everything.

That was her everything.

Alaric placed a comforting hand on her thigh. "Do we know who is responsible?"

"Have you found evidence that it’s my dad?" she asked, her pain increasing.

Detective Hector didn’t answer immediately. He bent over and pulled out a file. "Do you know who this is?" he asked, pushing the file to her.

Nicolette took it close and examined it.

She had no idea who it was.

The stranger was in a white hoodie with full black hair. His face was a little grainy, but if she knew him, she would’ve recognized him.

"No," she said, shaking her head.

Disappointment rushed through her.

That wasn’t her father.

Could Ronald be innocent?

Detective Hector sighed. "I was hoping you could identify the person. This is a picture obtained from a surveillance camera thirty minutes before the fire."

Nicolette’s stomach knotted. "I don’t know him. Maybe he was sent by my dad?"

"We can’t confirm that yet, ma’am," Detective Hector replied politely.

Nicolette shook her head, refusing to believe her father was really innocent. "Then you should—"

"We are working on it, ma’am," Detective Hector interrupted softly. "I understand your frustration, but I can assure you, we’re working on it."

She leaned back, frustration boiling inside her. Alaric rubbed her thigh softly.

"Is that all you have?" Alaric asked, turning to Detective Hector.

"For now, yes," he replied sadly. "We thought we could move on with this information. Sorry for the stress."

"It’s okay, Detective," Alaric said with a smile, his hand still on Nicolette’s thigh. "We appreciate your effort."

They all got to their feet and shook hands before leaving the office.

"Hey, it’s okay," Alaric said softly to Nicolette. "We’ll get through this."

Nicolette nodded, even though she didn’t believe him. The ride home was quiet, as she was lost in thoughts, and thankfully, Alaric was kind enough not to disturb her.

Once she got home, she went straight to her room and took a cold shower. Her body was weak from the jet lag, the heartbreak, and then the unquenched heat inside her.

She finished up, wrapping her body in a towel, and then stopped when she saw Alaric sitting on her bed.

Her body jerked instantly. "What are you doing... here?"

"I told you to punish me..." he said, his eyes filled with desire as he approached her. "Anything else but your silence. Please."

Nicolette felt the shiver run down her spine. The desire was burning and there was no point denying it.

She wanted him.

She wanted him to take all her frustration away.

When his lips found hers, she melted in his arms. His lips were soft, so tender that she just wanted to...

She pulled away from his kiss, giving in to the urge.

Alaric’s face lit with confusion. "What?"

"I want to fuck your face," she said, her legs already wet, her body already trembling.

Alaric chuckled and walked slowly to the bed. "I’m all yours, baby."