Page 90 of Sinner's Malice
“I didn’t do it!”
Shaking my head, I said, “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Huh?” Pippen sleepily looked up at me, rubbing his eyes. “Silver? What are you doing in my office?”
“Wake up, Intern,” Bane said, stepping forward. “I need you to access the club records.”
“What? Why?” Pippen gulped, looking from me to Bane.
“Because a sitting board member just asked you to,” I snarked.
“I can’t,” Pippen muttered, shaking his head, his eyes frantically shifting from me to Bane. “Mercy ordered me never to do it again. I’m sorry, Bane, but Mercy is the VP. He trumps you.”
The sound of a gun cocking had all three of us turning. Malice stood at the door, gun in hand, pointed directly at the intern.
Pippen loudly gulped before his fingers started typing away on his computer. Walking over to Malice, I said nothing as he just stood there, glaring at the intern.
“What am I looking for?”
“All the files concerning me,” Bane quickly said, walking around Pippen’s desk to get a better look.
“Gonna need you to narrow that down, Bane. There are files on you going all the way back to your birth.”
“What?” Bane questioned, confused. “How is that possible? I didn’t join the club until I graduated high school.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. Everything from your birth to present day is in the database. The same with every club member.”
Malice frowned, lowering his gun, taking a step forward. “What do you mean, every member?”
Pippen looked up at Malice and said, “I mean everyone. Even the women.”
“And Mercy knew all this?”
“I don’t think so.” Pippen shook his head. “He only has access to the main records from when members join. Anything before that is classified and hidden away in a ghost file.”
“Who has access to the ghost file?” I asked.
“George Stone did before he died,” Pippen admitted.
“Does Montana have access to the ghost file?” I questioned.
“No one.”
“Can you get into the file?” Bane asked.
Pippen shrugged. “To get into that file, you need a twenty-eight-bit encryption code.”
“Can you do it or not, Intern?” Bane clipped.
“Yeah. I can do it. Gonna need a few minutes,” Pippen stated, turning toward his computers, typing away.
“You were gone when I woke.”
Looking up at Malice, I smiled. “Did you miss me?”
“Didn’t like it.”
Stepping closer, I leaned up on the tips of my toes and kissed his cheek. “That was sweet of you to say.”