Chapter 21
LEONORE
It was a mistake.
I’m woman enough to admit that. And now that I’m thinking clearly, I know that I won’t do that ever again.
Even if it was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.
I hate that it was with him. Because that gives him power over me. Power I never wanted to give him.
I run my hand down my face. I let him make me fucking beg. And I don’t beg.
Although, apparently I do for him.
So that in itself is clearly an issue that needs to be stopped in its tracks.
And then I think about Nessa… She’s been ignoring me.
Not that we have never fought in our friendship before, but I honestly can’t remember the last time she purposely hid something from me.
It doesn’t sit right with me. Does she not trust that no matter what she says I will still be there for her?
Have I not proven over the years that no matter what, I’m always going to be there for her and Larissa?
Tori asked me a few times during the week why I am so quiet, not that I’m usually a talkative person, but she can tell that something has been up with me.
Especially since Tori has been oddly quiet even though she’s the talkative one among us.
Seems like everyone has secrets lately. I hear her speaking with someone, and ordinarily, I don’t think twice about it, but it’s when I hear her giggle that I grow curious. I linger at the door between the reception desk and the area that only we’re permitted to enter.
“I made sure it was a quick death. I know how you don’t approve of the more gruesome stuff,” a man says. I peer through the door. He’s an attractive guy, probably mid-twenties, but I haven’t seen him before.
“I know it’s what you do for work,” she says quietly as she leans into the counter, purposely squeezing her new fantastic boobs together, and he definitely notices.
He reminds me of someone, but I just can’t put my finger on it. He has darker hair and tanned skin. I wonder if he’s one of the Nero sons. I’ve only ever dealt directly with their middle son, Elias, once.
“So can I pick you up later?” he asks with a charming smile. A burn on his left wrist catches my attention. Where have I seen that burn mark before?
A sinking feeling settles in my stomach. Wait, didn’t the man wearing the mask who dropped off Silas’s crew member’s body have a similar burn mark?
A tightening knot continues in my stomach. Is it possible?
The front door opens, and the man immediately stands upright when he sees Cian and a few of his men walk in. Tori clears her throat as she says, “I need to get my boss. I’ll talk to you later.”
He doesn’t reply as he walks out, and my mind begins turning over ideas. Could that have been who brought in the body? But that doesn’t mean he took it. Or does it?
Tori steps through the door and jumps the moment she sees me. “Jesus, you look like death when you sneak up on me. The Hayes crew is here to see you.”
I nod but quickly inquire, “Who was that just now?”
She seems to pale slightly, and I don’t like it because my instinct is screaming at me that something is wrong.
“Oh, that’s just Giorgos, but I just call him George,” she says, her voice fracturing a bit. They’re obviously well acquainted.
“Giorgos, who?” My gaze narrows, and she rubs her elbow.
“Giorgos Nero,” she says quietly. “I know what you’re about to say, he’s part of the crew, but he’s sweet, and we haven’t done anything. I don’t know.” She casually shrugs. “I should probably cut it off, huh?”
I go to speak, but I close my mouth when Cian calls out from the front. “Doc, are you there?”
I feel like a hypocrite as I say, “Just don’t mix business with pleasure.” Though the thoughts racing through my mind aren’t about her love life or reprimanding her.
What if he’s the one who did it? What if Tori is somehow involved?
She nods. “I’m going to finish up for the day. Are you going to be okay?”
I simply nod, that feeling in my stomach swirling with nausea.
When I walk out, Cian and his men are talking shit about customer service. He immediately turns around when he sees me and gives me his best smile as he leans across the counter, which only further sours my mood.
“More beautiful than ever, Doc,” he says.
I say nothing in return. I have learned not to play men’s games when they egg you on for compliments.
They want to carry it on and make it more than it is.
That’s not happening here. When I don’t say anything, he reaches into his jacket, pulls out an envelope, and slides it across the counter.
His hand lies on top of it. For the first time in a long time, I reach up and grab it, not even thinking.
He’s just as surprised as I am, but he acts faster, and his hand covers mine.
I try to pull free, but he tightens his grasp.
“You are way too beautiful to be locked up here every night. Let me take you out. Just us, on a date,” he presses.
“Remove your hand,” I tell him, while my other hand reaches under the counter for the gun that’s stored there.
“Come on, Doc, just once. I bet I can make you want another. I’ll wine and dine you…
” He leans in real close. “Then I will make you scream after…” he finishes, and my hand closes around the gun, ready to pull it out.
It would be a stupid mistake to shoot him right now.
For the simple fact that he’s not technically doing anything wrong, other than touching my hand, and won’t remove his own from it.
Asshole.
But sometimes assholes need to be shot to be taught a lesson.
And almost every time, I have to fight my internal crazy that’s rather good at handing out lessons to men like these.
“The lady told you already to remove your fucking hand.” The last words are said through gritted teeth. He is behind me. How the fuck he keeps getting in is beyond me. He most likely slipped in after Tori left through the back door.
Instantly, Cian releases me and slides his hands down his jacket like he’s done nothing.
He nods to me, and I remove the money from the counter and slide it into the drawer.
I can feel him at my back, and I hate that he is showcasing that he has some kind of pull over me.
Cian finally nods and turns, walking out.
As soon as he’s gone, Silas’s voice comes over my shoulder again.
“Do you plan to shoot me with it as well? If not, remove your hand.”
“Why should I?” I say to him, keeping my hand on the gun. “You’ve proven that you like to break into places that you aren’t invited to.”
“Am I not invited?” he asks and presses himself against me. Removing the gun, I push back into him and turn around so I am facing him. He wastes no time before he presses me against the counter, and all that heated tension from the previous night blooms all over again.
I’m immediately torn between desire, telling him to fuck off, or expressing that I now have suspicions about the Nero family. But I refuse to have that conversation or involve Tori, especially when I don’t know if any of it is factual. It’s just a hunch, though I’m rarely wrong about these things.
So I do what every sane girl does. I bring the gun to his head, reminding him I’m not some beautiful thing to be caged or pressed. To simply be here for his entertainment. This is my place of work, and I take that very seriously.
His eyes spark with fire, his cock hardening as I bring the loaded barrel up underneath his jaw.
“Boss…” Valen stammers from behind him, which pisses me off even more because it’s not just Silas who’s inviting himself in.
I don’t look at him, but hear the click of multiple guns.
Goodie, more than one fucking person. I do not remove my eyes from Silas, refusing to back down to this asshole who pushes my buttons as much as he knows how to remove the tightening tension.
And even now, as I consider shooting him, liquid warmth pools between my thighs in a hot rush.
“Put your guns down. If any of you dare shoot, you’ll end up in her morgue,” he commands.
Sometimes I think he doesn’t fear me, but in the way he stares, I can tell it’s the opposite.
Unfortunately, we’re both creatures drawn to power, even when we pretend we’re not. A match made in hell, some might say.
Looking past him, I see Valen and two of his men holster their guns as they keep a cautious eye on me.
“Now, be a good girl and lower that gun,” Silas says, sounding irritated that I’d looked away from him.
When I look back, his hand slowly moves and touches the waistband of my pants.
I arch a brow at his movement and lower the gun, not because he asked me to, but because I want him to stop touching me. No one can know about us.
It was a one-off thing.
“Remove your hand or I will raise the gun again, and this time I won’t hesitate to pull the trigger.” He drops his hand immediately, and it’s the only thing that makes me proud to know that he does, in fact, take me seriously.
“Did you miss me?” he asks.
“No. I didn’t take you as the clingy type.” I turn back around and put the gun in place.
“Clingy?” he mumbles in disbelief, but I ignore him as I put my hands on my hips and face him again.
“Now, why are you here?” I ask him. He doesn’t back up. Instead, he stays where he is, hovering above me, but the way his eyebrows pinch together slightly tells me he’s still offended by the clingy comment. Turns out that comment works on all types of men—even the powerful ones.
“A body,” he says roughly as he clicks his fingers to silently signal for his men to leave. Valen hovers, I can sense him watching me, but does as Silas ordered. They’re most likely getting said body.
“And why are you here with the body?” I ask him. He leans down with a mischievous smile.
“Because it was me who killed him.” He smirks. Of course it was. “And I could not miss an opportunity to see you, of course,” he purrs.
“Vomit,” I say with an eye roll.
“See, when you say things like that, it turns me on.”
“It’s meant to do the opposite,” I tell him.
“Impossible,” he says. “I’ve seen you cut open bodies. I’m sure nothing you do will turn me off.”
“We only had sex. Don’t make this more than it is. It was fun. Leave it at that.” I go to push past him, but he grips my upper arm, stopping me and leaning down so his breath flushes hot against my neck.
“Let me take you back to your office right now. I’m craving a taste.”
My insides jump at his words. That subtle pounding between my thighs begging for another taste. Just a tiny one.
But it’s like a hard slap as I remind myself that I do not beg. Especially for no man.
“No, now remove your hand.” I harden my resolve because if I let it happen a second time, who’s to say it won’t happen a third and a fourth. I can’t let myself get lost in this man.
His lips tilt up as if he’s in on some private joke, but he removes his hand at my demand. Without a second thought, I push past him and go straight back to work, not looking back.