CHAPTER TWO
WYNTER
The best thing about working for Anika is how easy she is to be around. I insisted I start training straight away under Catherine’s watchful eye. Her last day is fast approaching, and she’s determined to leave everything in order before she goes. And honestly, what else have I got to do?
We’re going over the pain relief medication again, and I’m busy scribbling notes when Ray walks in.
With a child.
I don’t see Ray often, and when I do, he barely acknowledges me, which, honestly, works out perfectly. I’m more comfortable fading into the background.
But this . . . this is different.
He crouches slightly as he speaks to the boy, his voice softer, calmer. There’s patience in the way he listens, a quiet reassurance in the way he responds, like he’s someone else entirely.
My pen stills against the page as I watch him. Gentle. Careful. Sexy. I blink, snapping out of it, and give my head a small shake.
Where the hell did that come from?
“Oh, I forgot to mention Sebastian,” Catherine whispers. “He’s Anika’s son. Seven years old. Absolute sweetheart. You’ll get along just fine.”
I gasp. “She has a kid?”
Catherine’s head snaps towards me, eyes widening slightly as she glances over her shoulder.
“Please don’t let Mr. Carmichael hear you say it like that,” she murmurs. “He’ll lose his mind. Anika wasn’t always this way.”
There’s something in her tone that makes me pause, but she moves on before I can ask.
“It’s shared custody,” she continues. “Sebastian’s usually here Monday through Thursday, though it can change. We have a nanny, Alga, so he won’t fall under your responsibilities. But if she’s off sick, you may need to step in until Ray arranges cover.”
“Okay . . . that sounds fine.”
“I should have mentioned it sooner,” she adds, apologetic. “There’s just so much to go through. I’ll leave you my number in case you need advice once I’m gone.”
“That would be amazing,” I say, letting out a small breath. “I have a feeling I’m going to mess up more than once.”
Catherine smiles knowingly. “It happens. Just . . . try not to let Ray see it.”
I huff a quiet laugh. “Does he get nicer over time?”
Her smile falters, and my stomach drops. I wince slightly as her eyes flick past me.
He’s behind me, I can sense him. Shit.
Catherine offers me an encouraging smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Wynter.” My name lands like a warning. “A word.” Dread fills my stomach.
He leads me to the private elevator.
I’ve only ever used it to get to and from the penthouse, but this time he presses a different button. The doors slide open on the floor below, revealing a spacious office.
He gestures me forward, guiding me across the room until I’m standing in front of his desk. The view behind it stretches across London’s skyline, all glass and steel and endless grey. I don’t know how he gets any work done with a view like this.
“Sit,” he orders.
I lower myself into a plush purple chair, perching on the edge as he takes his seat behind the desk.
“Did you look over the paperwork?”
“I gave it to Catherine,” I say quickly. “All signed.”
He nods once. “Anika wants me to take you home later to pick up more of your things.”
My stomach drops. The image of him standing outside my crumbling apartment block flashes into my mind, and heat creeps up my neck.
I shake my head, forcing a polite smile. “That’s okay, I can manage.”
“Anika insisted,” he says. “Three o’clock.” It’s not a question.
I nod, already planning how to avoid the worst of the embarrassment.
“I trust Catherine filled you in on Sebastian?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” His expression hardens slightly. “Under no circumstance do you let his father into the building. Not even if Anika tells you to.”
I blink. “Okay.”
“I handle collections and drop-offs, so it shouldn’t be an issue,” he continues. “But if he shows up, you turn him away.”
I nod again.
“His name is Luke Malone,” Ray adds, his tone turning sharp. “He’ll try to charm you. Don’t let him.” He waits a beat before adding, “He’s a wanker.”
The door swings open before I can respond and a man strolls in like he owns the place, full of confidence and arrogance. He looks to be the same age as Ray, maybe a little rougher around the edges.
His gaze lands on me immediately, slow and assessing. My skin prickles.
He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and drops into the chair beside me. “You must be the new girl.”
“Her name is Wynter,” Ray says dryly. “Did you need something, Dale?”
Dale shakes his head, his eyes still locked on me. “Nope.”
“Then maybe you can step out so I can finish up here?”
“You didn’t mention she was a goddess,” Dale says, completely ignoring him.
Heat rushes to my cheeks and he groans softly, like he’s in pain, then drops his head back against the chair dramatically.
“Jesus . . . that innocent look you’ve got going on? That’ll kill me.”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t leave,” Ray says dryly.
“I work with Ray,” Dale tells me, flashing a grin.
“For me,” Ray cuts in. “You work for me.”
Dale ignores him again, pulling his phone from his pocket and holding it out to me. “If you need anything, call me. I’ll make it happen.”
I hesitate, my fingers barely touching the device.
“Don’t put your number in that,” Ray says sharply.
I glance between them, completely out of my depth.
“Give him the phone back.”
I hand it over quickly and Dale chuckles as he takes it, pushing to his feet. “Just how you like them, boss. Quiet. Innocent.” His grin turns wicked as he looks at me. “Is that why you warned me off?”
Ray doesn’t answer.
“I’ll give it to you when he’s not around.” Dale winks.
The second he’s gone, the room feels heavier.
Ray’s gaze snaps to me. “Do not fuck my staff,” he says bluntly. My cheeks burn with embarrassment at his bluntness. “Especially Dale.”
“I won’t,” I say quickly.
“I’ll fire you if you do,” he continues, his tone cold and absolute. “I won’t have you sneaking around when you should be looking after Anika.”
“Mr. Carmichael,” I say, forcing my voice to stay steady, “I can assure you, I have no intention of sleeping with any of your staff. I’m not looking for complications.”
At exactly two-forty-five, I press my key card to the elevator pad and breathe out a sigh of relief. Ray is too intense and the last thing I need is him seeing where I live.
I step out into the casino’s grand foyer, push through the glass doors and stop.
He’s already there. Leaning against a car. Watching me.
“Oh,” I mumble, guilt curling in my stomach.
He’s changed out of his suit, swapping it for jeans, a dark hoodie. Casual. Effortless. Dangerous.
For a second, I forget I was planning to avoid him.
“Actually,” I shift my weight, “I’ve got things to do. Can we do this another time?”
“No.” He says it like it’s not even up for discussion as he pulls open the passenger door.
“Honestly, it’s fine—”
“Get in the car, Wynter,” he drawls. “Now.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. He doesn’t seem like the kind of man who takes no for an answer, so I slide into the seat, the door shutting firmly behind me.
Ray gets in, and starts the engine, without asking for my address. My stomach sinks.
He already knows.
When we pull up outside my building, I feel the embarrassment before I even step out.
The usual group of lads are gathered near the entrance, being loud, restless, and watching everything.
I inwardly groan.
Great.
“You can wait here,” I say quickly. “I’ll bring my things down.”
He stays silent, then his door opens. I glance over as he rounds the car, opening mine without a word.
Right. Of course, he’s not letting me do this alone.
Every pair of eyes turns towards us as we walk over. One of the lads steps forward, lifting his fist. Ray bumps it without hesitation.
“Bossman. Good to see you.”
“Watch the car,” Ray says casually as we pass.
The lad nods immediately, and I stare after them, confused.
“How do you know them?” I ask as I push open the communal door.
Ray steps in behind me. “You don’t want to know.”
We take the stairs as the lift hasn’t worked since the day I moved in. By the time we reach the second floor, the odour hits—stale, sour, unmistakable. Piss. Or vomit, I’ve never worked out which.
I keep my eyes forward, willing the ground to swallow me whole as we walk the length of the corridor. I feel him behind me, taking it all in. Judging.
We stop outside my door, and my hands fumble slightly with the key before I finally get it open.
I step inside quickly, like I can somehow shield him from the worst of it.
I’ve tried to make it nice. I bought fake flowers and a throw for the sofa. Little things to make it feel less temporary.
But there’s no hiding it. The mould creeps along the walls. The damp gathers on the windowsills. The faint, earthy smell that never quite leaves, like the place is slowly rotting around me.
“I’ll just be a minute,” I say, already moving towards my bedroom before he can say anything.
RAY
I look around slowly, taking in the flat.
It’s small. My bedroom wouldn’t even fit in this entire place. And it’s clear from the smell and the mould patches on the wall that there’s damp.
It’s not her fault, I can see she’s tried to make it homely. There are fake flowers on the windowsill, and a throw over the sofa. Little touches that don’t quite hide the rot underneath.
I move into the kitchen and open a cupboard, not surprised when I find it empty. I move to another, and there’s still nothing. Next, I check the fridge. It’s also empty.
My jaw tightens. The only thing in the entire space is a tub of powdered hot chocolate sitting on the counter.
That’s it.
A sharp, ugly anger settles in my chest. I wouldn’t let a dog live like this.
I stride into her bedroom without knocking. She spins around, her eyes wide with surprise, as she clutches something behind her back.
“When did you last eat?” I demand.
She hesitates, and my gaze drops. Her grip tightens around whatever she’s hiding.