Rochelle lifted her hand, and only now he saw the folded piece of paper she was holding. “We have a subpoena to search your house.”

The announcement hit him like a punch in the gut. Or a knife in his heart. For a moment he couldn’t produce any sound from his dry throat. Rochelle had gotten a subpoena to search his house? Had she already been planning this last night? Had she maybe even snooped around in his penthouse while he—exhausted from their lovemaking—had slept like the dead?

“A subpoena?” With a robotic movement, he reached for it and scanned it. It was signed by a judge and appeared genuine. He lifted his gaze and stared at her, but Rochelle avoided his eyes. “What for?”

She cleared her throat. “We have reason to believe that you’re keeping documentation about a hidden bank account here. The account with which those illegal stock trades were made. Please let us enter.”

Without a word, he moved to the side, and Rochelle motioned her colleagues to go ahead. The two nodded briefly, greeting him, before entering the house.

Zach stepped into Rochelle’s path before she could follow them. From between clenched teeth, he ground out, “What’s going on here?”

Rochelle narrowed her eyes. “I wanted to ask you the same thing. You used me. The entire time you lied to me, even though you knew what you’d done.”

From inside the house, Esposito’s voice sounded. “Well, then let’s get to work.”

“Yes, of course, I’m coming,” she replied quickly to her colleague and tried to squeeze past him, but Zach didn’t allow it.

He looked over his shoulder and forced an indifferent expression onto his face. “Go ahead and start so we can get this over with. I’ll just need to have a quick word with Miss Wright.” When he turned back to Rochelle, he dropped his friendly mask. “Because you and I have a few things to discuss.”

He heard the footsteps of the two SEC agents as they walked upstairs to where the bedrooms were located. As soon as they were out of earshot, he took a few steps back and let Rochelle enter. But if she thought that she could escape him now, she’d thought wrong.

“Did you know about this last night? Did you know you’d show up here today with your people?” he snarled, deeply hurt. He let his eyes wander over her strict business suit. “And I thought we could really have something. Damn it, I’ve fallen in love with you! What an idiot I’ve been, and you just used me. Spied on me.”

He motioned around the room with his hand, indicating the living area, where a champagne bottle was chilling in an ice bucket. “I really thought you’d spend the weekend with me, because you have feelings for me.” He huffed and ground his teeth. “Apparently I was wrong.”

“You’re not the only one who was wrong about somebody.” Her voice trembled when she finally answered. “After all the lies you dished up…” She turned fully to him, her eyes filled with pain and fury. “All the time you assured me that you’re innocent. And I believed you.” She bent closer, while her gaze darted to the staircase to verify that her colleagues were still upstairs. “I really believed that you slept with me, because you wanted me, and not because you…”

With one step, he bridged the last bit of space that separated them. “Because I what?”

“Because you wanted to influence the outcome of the investigation.” She fairly spit the words out.

“I have nothing to hide. I haven’t done anything wrong. So why the witch hunt? Is this how you treat all men? Do you hate men that much?”

He could see her lips tremble; she was losing her composure.

“Mr. Ivers?” Esposito called out from the landing on the upper floor.

“Yes?” he asked without turning.

“Do you have a home office?”

He nodded and motioned to a door to the left of the foyer. “Down here.”

He heard the employee descend. But in front of the office, he stopped without entering. “Oh.”

Zach turned fully. “What else?”

Esposito pointed to an antique desk that stood at the end of the hallway. “Rochelle, look.”

Rochelle followed Esposito’s outstretched hand and took a few steps in its direction.

“What is this about?” Zach looked at Esposito, but the man didn’t answer.

Instead he marched toward the desk and opened the drawers. They were empty. Then he crouched underneath it and knocked against the wood. When he pounded against it more vigorously, Zach had enough.

“A subpoena doesn’t give you the right to destroy my property.”