Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
J ames
It’s been a fucking morning. It wasn’t even six in the morning yet, and I was on my way to the home of someone who had no idea they were about to have me knocking at their door.
Friday, when I was pulled away from my office, I was updated on the little snitch harassing my company and constantly calling the police. It wasn’t Hodge directly, but upon further investigation, we learned it was his nephew, a thirty-year-old man with an extensive criminal history who had been working for his uncle since he was released from prison seven months ago.
“It’s this one,” Tobias says, stopping in front of a door in a dingy apartment building. He had only arrived back from the West Coast Saturday morning in time for our event and was already at my side helping me with the next order of business.
He spent all of yesterday investigating our little friend here, whom we’re paying a visit to, so that bright and early Monday morning before the sun comes up, we were prepared to send a little message.
His dedication was exactly why I chose him to be a part of my business and an even closer confidant. But I suspected that soon, he wouldn’t be happy with me when he learned of his sister's involvement with us. I’ve had him busy away from Labyrinth headquarters, but it was only a matter of time.
Tobias pounds on the door, and we wait until it slowly cracks open. The face of a man pokes through the sliver, but his eyes widen in fear when he spots us and tries to slam the door shut. Before he can, I kick my foot against it, and the door flies off the hinges and plows into him, knocking both of them to the ground. Tobias barrels in now and picks the frail man up off the ground, holding him up by the collars of his shirt and staring him in the face as I calmly walk behind him.
“Hello, Timothy,” I greet him, slowly walking inside. I looked around his small apartment that was an absolute shit hole, perfect for the likes of him. I look back down at him, penetrating him with my glare as he attempts to make eye contact, but he shakes like a leaf. “Do you know who I am?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
I laugh, amused. “You know my name, Timothy, just like I know yours.” I stop behind Tobias, meeting his gaze over Tobias’s shoulder. “You’ve mentioned me in your calls. More than once. I want you to tell me who I am.”
He seems to gather himself slightly and lifts his chin. “You’re James Kingston.”
A devilish smile curls my lips. “What else do you know? Tell me exactly what your uncle pays you to do, and maybe I’ll spare you.”
“If you hurt me, I won’t tell you anything,” he spits.
Tobias’s face curls in disdain as he grips him harder. “I don’t think you’re in the position to be making any negotiations,” he growls.
“Correct,” I agree.
Tears fill Timothy’s eyes, and the sight of them excites me. There was nothing like watching someone regret their actions only after being caught.
“He only told me to make the calls and what to say. Sometimes, he has me stake out your warehouse and take pictures. I’ve only done it a couple of times, but he has others helping him. I’m not the only one, I swear. He’s working with someone else. Someone bigger.”
I grimace at the reminder of Chuck. “Find anything of substance?” I ask curiously.
He shakes his head. “I was told to watch for shipments leaving at odd times or in different transportation, but I never saw anything, even when they told me to make those calls to the police. My uncle always told me what to do and say. I swear I don’t know anything.”
Rage boils inside me. The fact that Hodge has taken it upon himself to turn his rivalry into a full-blown operation makes me want to drive straight to his home and commit murder. I didn’t have time to play these petulant games, but here we are. I couldn’t deal with it when they were wreaking havoc on my business, especially when we were supposed to be operating under the radar.
Tobias drops him to the floor without an ounce of gentleness, and I crouch to get on his level, glaring at him as what feels like hot tar filters through my veins. His fearful eyes meet mine, and he tries to scatter back on the floor away from me, but Tobias places a foot on his hand, making a scream rip from him as he uses all his strength to press down on it and keep him in his place.
“I’m going to need you to send your uncle a message for me,” I say calmly.
“You said you would spare me,” he cries.
I look down at his pathetic form in front of me, anger and disgust rolling through me in waves that I can’t and won’t control.
“I said maybe, but I decided that wouldn’t send a message now, would it?” I declare as Tobias pulls out a switchblade, snaps it open, and hands it to me. Timothy wails at the sight of it, and I laugh again as I snatch his hand from the floor. “Let’s see how well you make calls without these,” I chime as I plunge the blade straight through the base of his thumb. He screams violently, choking on the pain as I cut through bone, severing his thumb completely. I snatch his other hand, fighting against his hold as he tries to scurry away again. Tobias uses his foot again, bringing it down on his forearm now, and I think I may hear bone crunch, but it could also be his other thumb that I’m now cutting off.
Tobias picks up a stray shirt off the floor and shoves it into his mouth, muffling his screams as I stand and pull a handkerchief from my jacket and wipe the blood off my blade. “It’s a shame it had to come to this,” I mention as Tobias stalks around the apartment, his eyes scanning the place until they land on exposed piping on the far ceiling. He uses his bare fists to rip a part of the lead pipe down. He grips it in his hands, smirking down at his newly found weapon and stalking back toward Timothy on the ground as he drags himself away from us by his elbows toward his cell phone on the coffee table in the center of the room. “But this is the only way to ensure everyone’s on the same page,” I finish before adding, “I’d bite down on that shirt a little harder if I were you.” Just then, Tobias stops his madman descent, swings the pipe over his shoulder, and brings it down onto him. Timothy’s pained roar, shattering bone, and wet blood overtake the songs of the morning birds outside.
I headed to work an hour later, wasting no time getting to my office. I didn’t even have time to change my clothes as I was dealing with one thing after the other this morning, and my little meeting with Timothy took longer than I anticipated. I ignore everyone on the way to my office, shut myself inside, and sit behind my desk. I rip my suit jacket off, roll up my sleeves to relax my muscles, and finally take a minute to cool off. I take my tie out of my pocket and start to tie it around my neck when my office door opens, and I pause my movement as I look up to see Cecilia slowly walking inside.
I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since Saturday night when I was close enough to ring her pretty little neck. I had let my guard down too much with her, and because of that, she felt comfortable enough to go through my personal belongings. I knew better now and wouldn’t let it happen again.
“Good morning, James,” she says softly.
“You’ll address me as Mr. Kingston from here on out,” I tell her. She stands there, looking at me with a surprised expression, and I can’t help but take the whole of her in again like I’ve done every morning so far. My eyes drop to her body, and it’s like my insides physically react to it, which only pisses me off even more.
How could someone so incessantly annoying be so attractive? She was wearing a long-sleeved cream sweater dress with a black belt around the waist. What would generally be a modest dress looks sinful on her. It hugged her faint curves and ended just below her mid-thigh. She wasn’t wearing any stockings, and I couldn’t help but let my gaze roam down her bare legs to her knee-high boots. But it was the deep, low V of the dress that was showing her cleavage that kept stealing my attention. I hated that fact more than I hated how persistent she was in showing up here and sticking her nose in places where it didn’t belong. I hated the way I unwillingly guessed that her breasts were just big enough to fit in the palms of my hands. I hated how I always looked at how she styled her hair, just to see if she tried to contain her curls today or let them spring free.
Today, they were pulled away from her face in a large, chunky braid that rested down her back. Her face was entirely on display, looking so lustfully innocent.
“Okay then,” she mumbles, walking further into the room to sit down. I try to finish tying my tie, but I get that choking feeling again and become frustrated, ripping it off altogether. Her eyes bounce to where I throw it before eyeing me warily. “Uhm… is everything okay?”
“No,” I snap. “It’s not. We haven’t discussed your punishment for Friday.” Not that I could give her the punishment I actually want to.
“Look, I’m sorry. I got a little overly curious and?—”
“You don’t go near my things, Cecilia. I don’t care what little mission you’re on here, but you will respect my office and personal belongings. Do you understand?”
She looks like she’s grinding her teeth as she glares back at me, and I revel in her irritation. “Yes,” she manages to say.
I lower my voice, leaning onto my desk. “I want you to say you understand.”
She bites down on her bottom lip like she is trying to stop herself, and when she releases it, my eyes roam over the tiny teeth marks left on it. “I understand, Mr. Kingston,” she scowls cunningly.
I smirk and lean back into my chair. “Good girl.”
“You know, if you’re just going to act like a—” Her voice dies off, and I look back at her and see her eyes scanning my face with a level of what looked like concern. “Is that…is that blood on your face?”
I touch my hand to my cheek, where her eyes are zoned in, and pull away, spotting a small amount of blood on the tips of my fingers. “Huh,” I remark. “Guess I missed a spot.”
“Why is there blood on your face?” she exclaims.
“That is none of your business.” I couldn’t help but enjoy the shock and pure fear freezing her face and leaving her eyes wide as she looked at me. It was good for her to realize that she shouldn’t get too comfortable, that I wasn’t a nice man, and that I could never be nice to her.
“I’m serious. Why the hell is there blood on your face?” she asks more assertively.
I stand from my chair and walk around it to stand in front of her now. I lean over her and watch as she gasps, leaning back into her seat as I plant both my hands on the arms of it, caging her in. I drop my head so that my face is inches from hers. I look down to her chest, where I can see her heart racing, and then bring my eyes up to meet hers again.
“Do you want the truth, little owl? Do you want me to tell you that I broke into a man's home this morning and interrogated him? That I removed his thumbs and beat his knees in so that he would have to hobble back to his boss and tell him that I was coming for him next? Is that what you want to hear?” I ask her, tilting my head to observe her better. She’d probably love to know her brother helped me, that he was the one to beat his knees in with only a lead pipe. She’d whisk him away from me and destroy everything I am in mere seconds if she knew that truth. God, I loved it.
Her eyes pierced mine like she was fighting not to cower, but I could tell how shaken she was with her rapid blinking and how she was gripping her dress on her thighs like it would keep her grounded.
“Is that true?” she whispers. My attention is dragged to her mouth as she speaks, and it feels like the room gets ten times hotter as I hover over her, so fucking close.
“No,” I murmur, watching her lips as she breathes sharply. “I cut myself shaving this morning.”
She doesn’t say anything else. Her eyes bounced around my face like she was terrified of the truth right before her but didn’t want to confirm it. I stand up now and sit behind my desk, grabbing the tissues and wiping my face clean. She’s still staring, and I enjoy the way she looks petrified. Maybe showing her the real me would scare her enough to leave me the hell alone.
“As for your punishment,” I say, retaking her attention. “Today, you’ll be spending some time with the design team. I want you to do some real work while you’re here.”
Her eyes furrow, and it’s like every trace of fear is gone as she regards me. I didn’t like how quickly she could snap in and out of it with me. Like she could forget how bad of a man I was. I didn’t want people to forget that.
“That’s it?” she asks.
“Trust me, Cecilia. If you weren’t Tobias’s sister, your punishment would be far more grueling and less appropriate, but there’s a boundary not to be crossed between us.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means just that.”
She sighs. “What am I doing with the design team?”
“I want you to brainstorm ideas with them, like you did in the meeting. All that bullshit about love and warmth…reiterate it to them.”
She now narrows her eyes at me in the curious way she does. “You think love is bullshit?”
“I don’t think it’s real, little owl. At least not for some people.”
“How can you believe that and try to sell it through your jewelry?”
“Haven’t you noticed that it’s only about money and power for me? I don’t care what or how I sell it just as long as I do.”
She seems oddly disappointed by that, and even more oddly, I wish I hadn’t said any of it either. “When should I go?” she asks in a colder tone, which also didn’t sit right with me.
“Now,” I tell her and watch silently as she gathers her things and leaves my office without another word. When I thought I’d be relieved that she’s gone, I’m filled with another feeling entirely. It was something I’d never felt before, and it felt like an invasion in my body, like the feeling didn’t belong there and didn’t fit quite right either. It felt like…longing. I was looking at the chair in front of my desk, and I, strangely enough, wanted her back in it even if all she did was scrutinize me from it.
I close my eyes, her face coming to mind. How wide her scared eyes were when she tracked the blood on my face and the way she was frozen to her spot. The way her chest rose and fell so quickly as I leaned over her. The way her fingers bunched her dress in them, holding onto it so tightly that the fabric slid up her thighs, exposing more of her skin to my view.
I was going to replay that image of her in my head for the rest of the night…fuck…probably the rest of the month.
The rest of the day drags on painfully slow. Knowing she was in this building with me was aggravating when I couldn’t see her or, rather, keep an eye on her. I was getting regular check-ins from the head of the design department, letting me know she was getting along well, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted to see her. I couldn’t help needing to remind her that I was still here, watching her as much as she was watching me.
Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to check in and see the designer’s progress. She seemed to inspire them in the last meeting, so hopefully, she was more inspiration today. As for me, I was going to ignore the little fact that she seemed to be a guiding light for my employees.
I take the elevator down to the design department and stop just at the open entryway, peering into the large room that sat close to thirty people, several desks lined against the walls that sat two people at each one, all of them working closely together. The room was alive and full of creation. Everyone was talking with each other and bouncing around ideas. Sketches were being passed around, and a giant board had themes and inspirational keywords written on them.
I find Cecilia in the mass, sitting at one of the tables in the corner of the room, but it’s the figure leaning over her that has me more interested. Greg, the head of the department, has his hand resting on the back of her chair as he bends over her, pointing to whatever they are looking at on the table. She’s nodding along and pointing at things, even speaking as if this is something she’s done her whole life.
He bends closer to her, their faces coming together, and he says something I can’t decipher. My stomach knots when a small laugh escapes her and the way he looks at her mouth as she does.
All logic leaves me.
I stride into the room, not stopping until I reach her desk. The room has gone mostly silent now, and I suspect everyone’s eyes are on me, but I don’t care. I only care that Greg’s eyes are burned out of his skull.
“Play times over, Cecilia. I need you back in my office,” I demand before she ever notices my presence.
She looks up at me, as does Greg, who now stands at full height. “Mr. Kingston,” he greets me. “Cecilia’s making wonderful progress here. We just decided on?—”
“I trust you to handle it,” I interrupt him, looking back to her now. “Let’s go.”
She sticks up her nose at me. “You came all the way down here yourself to get me?”
I nearly bite a hole into my lip. I don’t miss how everyone’s eyes widen in surprise as she speaks to me. “I did,” I answer with an unmissable sharpness to my tone. “Now get up, and let’s go.”
She narrows her eyes on me for a long second as if she were trying to dominate me, but then she stands up and begrudgingly follows me out of the room. The second she’s out of it and walking behind me in the hall, it’s like the oppressive tension in that room finally leaves my body, and I can breathe again. I’d never once felt that way in my own building, which further proves she doesn’t need to be here.
“So, what is it you need me for now?” she calls out behind me.
I stop in front of the elevator and press hard on the up button. “I want coffee.”
“You came all the way down here so I can get you coffee instead of doing it yourself?”
I shrugged, walking into the elevator, pleased when she followed right behind me. “I like the way you make it.”
“All I do is dump a sugar packet into it. That’s literally it.”
“You do it well.”
“You’re unbelievable,” she grumbles.
I smirk. “Ready to quit yet?”
Her frown drops uncomfortably fast into a sly smile. “Not a chance.”
The elevator dings and opens, and the second it does, I see Alan looking down at his phone, waiting to get on. Cecilia’s eyes widened in recognition, and I hurried to the front of the elevator, pressing the button to shut the doors. Alan looks up, ready to step on, and stops, coming face to face with me.
“Apologies, Alan. This lifts full,” I say as his eyes bounce to the empty spaces around me, hopefully not spotting Cecilia directly behind me. Then, the doors close again.
I breathe in relief when they do, just as Cecilia says, “Do you think he recognized me?”
Irrational anger bolts through me at the reminder of them all cozied up at the banquet Saturday night. Was there a man in this God-forsaken building who could keep their eyes off her?
I whip around her, my mind in an uncontrollable haze as I grip her jaw in my hand, walking her backward until her back slams against the wall of the elevator. “Do you realize how frustrating you are, Cecilia? You can’t go to work events with your brother when you’re mine here. Someone will recognize you, and I don’t have time to clean up your messes.”
I feel her jaw muscle bunch in my hand as her lips purse in defiance. Her eyes are angry blue flames as she stares back at me. “Then let's cut the act already, and you can admit all your wrongdoings? Admit my brother isn’t safe with you,” she retorts.
“ You’re not safe with me. Yet you keep putting yourself right in harm's way. Why is that?” I wonder. “I’m starting to think this is all more for your entertainment than for your brother's sake.”
I feel her bristle beneath me. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I? Does my little owl enjoy taking a walk on the wild side? Is your little library getting too boring for you?” Her chest rises and falls faster the more her anger grows. I eat up every breath she takes, letting it fill me with more rage for her to feed from like an endless cycle. It was addicting. She was addicting.
“I dream of the day I solve this petulant game of yours, and I can go back home safely with my brother,” she murmurs.
I let go of her face, dropping my hand to her waist and pressing her harder into the wall. “This isn’t a game. This is my life. My labyrinth. You’ve already gotten so deep, and the darkness is starting to feel good. Isn’t it?”
I bunch the fabric of her dress in my fist just as her hands shoot out, pressing onto my lower stomach to keep me at bay. Her touch is warm, and my stomach coils at the feeling of her against it. I hold onto her dress tighter, like a rope tethering me in place.
She still hasn’t answered me, and she doesn’t have to. We both know the truth. Cecilia isn’t the good little girl she pretends to be. I see it in her every day, and she likes to show it to me. She knows it as well as I do. It’s why she’s staring at me with so much hate, and yet, her hands are curling into my shirt now, gripping me, and I feel the smallest of tugs pulling me closer to her.
Then the elevator dings again, and the doors fly open.
Her eyes widened as she caught herself in the act, the reality of the outside world slamming back into her. I smirk, finally releasing her and watching way too enraptured in the way her dress falls back down her legs as I let go of it.
Her hands practically push me off her as she releases me, and she shoulders past me, bolting out of the elevator and leaving me staring behind her.