Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Maybe I’ve overestimated his intelligence.
If Michael is losing his nerve now, how will he see the rest of the takeover through?
I’m not the only monster he’ll face, and he’s already shaking in his boots.
I’m almost disappointed.
Michael drops his hand. “What do you want?”
“You want to renegotiate the terms? Congratulations, you’ve got my attention. Let’s see what kind of head you have for business.”
Michael stares at me, a myriad emotions on his face. “What do you mean?”
“It means, princess, that you just bought yourself some time. Go discuss this with your girlfriend, and we’ll be in touch.” I lower the gun and give him a slow, cold smile. “I’d count my fucking blessings if I were you.”
Michael looks from the gun to my face and back again. His eyes tighten around the edges, and he purses his lips. “That’s it? You’re just going to let me go?”
My smile falls, and I throw him a menacing look. “You’re right. I should go back to my original plan and shoot you.”
Michael opens his mouth to speak, but he’s cut off by a knock on the door.
Carlisle pokes his head in. “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but there’s some urgent business that requires your attention.”
I spin around to face Carlisle. “Have Mr. Everett escorted out.”
Carlisle pushes the door open the rest of the way and nods. A heartbeat later, two muscled men come in and flank Michael. “Oh, and make sure you give him a greeting worthy of the Payne name.”
I watch his back as he leaves, itching to fire another bullet at him and wondering how it would feel if one lodged itself in his leg or an arm.
You’ll have to settle for making sure the men have a little fun with him before they release him.
Once he’s out of earshot, I round on Carlisle and glare.
“This had better be fucking important or someone is going to lose a limb.”
Carlisle clears his throat. “Do you remember the reporter we talked about who’s been snooping around?”
I step behind my desk and reach for the decanter. “Reporters have snooped before. This had better not be why you interrupted me.”
I don’t have time to worry about some overachieving gossip columnist with nothing better to do.
“This one is different,” Carlisle replies grimly. “He’s like a dog with a bone. All the usual measures we have in place aren’t throwing him off, and they aren’t scaring him, either.”
I pour a generous amount of whiskey into my glass and look up. “And?”
“With the mayor breathing down our necks, I thought you’d want me to find another way to deal with him.”
I study Carlisle over the rim of the glass, the blood still roaring in my ears. “How close is he?”
Maybe I’ll have a bullet put between the reporter’s eyes, just to make sure no one else comes snooping.
“Close enough,” Carlisle responds. “His story doesn’t have a lot of merit yet, but he must have an inside source.”
“At least he knows how to do his job,” I mutter darkly. “There’s something to be said for relentlessness.”
Carlisle straightens his back. “How do you want me to handle this?”
Sending Carlisle to take care of him is my usual go-to.
While he has dealt with many reporters over the years, we can’t afford to have anything lead back to us, and subtlety isn’t Carlisle’s strong suit.
It’s not time to call in Katia, either.
Not until I know how deep this reporter is digging.
I don’t need the mayor having any more ammo against us. His campaign is going to have to be built on someone else’s back. I’ll be damned if I let him or anyone else use our downfall to climb to the top.
“Have one of your men follow him. See where he likes to go, and who he spends his time with, and report back to me,” I order. “Let’s see how far he’s willing to take this. In the meantime, do whatever it takes to kill the story without touching him.”
Carlisle nods. “Yes, sir.”
“Have Katia on standby in case he needs to be taken care of permanently.”
Carlisle’s lips spread into a slow, sadistic smile. “With pleasure.”
The man’s bloodlust almost rivals mine. I’ve never had a reason to mistrust him, but years of lessons have been drilled into me, making me realize I need to stay one step ahead at all times.
Katia is the only person I truly trust around here.
On his way out, I see a silhouette lurking in the shadows. With a frown, I wrench open the door and peer outside, spotting a flash of hair rounding the corner. When I step out of the hallway, I see London with her shoulders hunched and her head down.
Why was she skulking outside my office?
And how much of our conversation did she hear?
I’m tempted to go after her, just to make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid, but I know there’s no point.
London has signed a contract, and she knows what’ll happen if she violates the terms.
Being on bad terms with her father hasn’t changed anything for her.
I have to admire that about her.
Most people in her position would’ve tried to find a way out by now.
Don’t do anything stupid, London. Just keep your head down and do as you’re told.
A few moments later, I stalk back into the office and pour another drink.
I linger in the doorway, debating whether to go after her anyway before deciding she can be handled later.
Whatever London has or hasn’t overheard doesn’t matter.
She won’t do anything with the information because she can’t.
London has been in my world long enough to know what happens to people who betray me.
***
London
“You have a nice place.” I shift from one foot to the other and offer her a smile. “I didn’t know this place had apartments.”
Miss Deveroux pushes open the door and motions for me to step in. “It doesn’t, but I’ve been around for a long time.”
It makes sense that someone like her would be allowed certain amenities.
I envy the freedom she has even if I don’t understand it.
How can she still want to work at a place like this with everything she knows?
I sweep my eyes over the place, skimming past the mismatched living room set, the old drapes on the windows, and the small kitchen. “I guess there can be perks to the job.”
Miss Deveroux shuts the door and spins around to face me. “I’m sure you didn’t come here to talk about the job.”
“No, I guess not.”
She offers me a small smile and brushes past me. “Tea or something stronger?”
“Better make it tea,” I reply, following her. I lower myself onto a stool at the marble kitchen countertop and rest my face in my hands. “I’m sorry to show up unannounced. I didn’t know where else to go.”
She’s been extending an invitation to me for some time, urging me to come by and blow off some steam.
Over the past few weeks, as my resolve around Mason has weakened, the lines between my professional and personal life have blurred. I don’t know what’s what anymore. Worst of all, wrong and right don’t seem as clear-cut as they used to be.
The conversation I overheard earlier is proof of that.
Mason hasn’t gone out of his way to hide who he is. Many women in my position would be recoiling in horror and plotting their escape. Instead, I’m bending over backward to understand how he became the man he is.
I’m trying to reconcile the image of the man from the diner that day, the man willing to come to my defense, and the man I overheard issuing an order to kill.
How can they be the same person when they are so wildly different?
They aren’t the same, and you know it. When are you going to make your peace with that and move on?
Miss Deveroux takes out two mugs and tea bags from the cupboard and sets them down. Then, she fills the kettle up with water, and the stove comes to life with a loud crackle. When she twists to face me, I almost can’t stand the pity in her eyes.
I don’t deserve it.
“What’s on your mind?”
“You’re right. I think I’m in over my head. I know I shouldn’t have looked him up, but I did—”
“You looked Mr. Payne up?” Miss Deveroux’s eyebrows draw together. “What were you hoping to find?”
I exhale a long breath. “I don’t know. Answers, maybe? I know that sounds stupid, but I thought that if I had the whole picture, it would help.”
Miss Deveroux pours the hot water into the mugs as she looks over at me. “And did it?”
I shake my head. “No, it just made things worse. It was easier before when I could pretend I didn’t know how messed up this world is, and how dangerous Mason is. Now, I…”
Miss Deveroux sets the mug in front of me. “Now you can’t turn the other cheek?”
“I’m trying,” I whisper, averting my gaze. “I just don’t know how.”
Miss Deveroux releases a shaky breath. “I’m sure this is hard, and I hate to be the one to point out the obvious, but…”
“I don’t have a choice,” I finish weakly. “I know I don’t. I made a commitment, and I need to see it through.”
Miss Deveroux leans against the counter, her bright eyes wide and unflinching. “It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
“I am,” I reply in a whisper. “I knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”
Still, even in my wildest imagination, I couldn’t have foreseen how hard it would be.
Leaving is unthinkable, but I can’t imagine staying after everything I’ve uncovered. With Mason’s last words still ringing in my ears, I don’t know what choice I have.
Is there actually a man behind the mask worth getting to know?
Or have I convinced myself there is, so I don’t feel guilty about the pull between us?
Have I built him up to be a misunderstood monster just so I don’t have to examine my role in all this?
Miss Deveroux leans back and takes a long drink, her eyes never leaving my face. “Are you staying because of Mr. Payne or because of the contract?”
“I know you told me to be careful and that there’s nothing there worth saving, but there is something there. I’ve seen it.”
Even as the words leave my mouth, I wonder if I’m grasping at straws.
Miss Deveroux mutters something under her breath.