10. Ares
Ares
Ipush a button and lock the door so Lourdes can’t escape.
“Your theft was sophisticated,” I say in a sharp voice. “Who taught you how to do this?”
She only shakes her head. Hiding something from me will only make me pursue her more.
“Juniper is mine now. You need to start talking.”
“Does Nathan know?” she asks in a scratchy voice.
I study her, fascinated. “No.”
“Did you delete the account?” Her voice trembles. “Take the money?”
“No,” I say and pick up the laptop.
“It’s not what you think.” She clears her throat. “I told you my situation. My husband keeps all of my money. This was…in case of an emergency.”
She’s lying. It’s delicious, even if I don’t know what the truth is. I want to peel back more layers of this woman. Who knows what the hell I’ll find? Was she saving money to leave her husband?
To disappear?
No, I won’t let that happen. Not until I’ve had my fill of her.
“The money is yours,” I say, placing the laptop in her hands. “This was not an asset I accounted for.”
“You’re going to let me keep it?” Her fingers curl around the cool metal edge. “Without reporting me to Nathan or the police?”
“The police,” I scoff, as if that is a reasonable thing to worry about.
“Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”
“I’ve seen enough.” I hold her gaze then continue, voice measured, “Including your husband’s blatant disrespect. What you told me about his financial subjugation of you only confirmed my impression of him from the other night at Winterhall.”
“Thank you. I have enormous gratitude and respect for you, Mr. Zervas. For this.” She holds up the job offer letter.
I grin with a tiny bite to my lower lip.
You won’t respect me when you’re on your knees, and I’m throat fucking you.
Instead of that proposal, I make another. “Are you free this evening? Or do you have plans with your husband?”
“He’s in Boston,” she answers, her voice carefully neutral. “He’ll be there a few days.”
“Interesting.” I nod like I didn’t know this already.
“What do you need me for tonight?” She looks me dead in the eye. Something I don’t permit many people to do.
But with her, I want her to see every inch of me. The good and bad. Especially the bad.
Because I’m a bad man, and I do bad things. I won’t change, not for anyone.
“My young cousin is a sous-chef at French Craft. The head chef isn’t treating her right. I need to remind him who she is. Her last name isn’t Zervas, but the chef is either lazy or stupid for not remembering who her family is.”
Lourdes swallows. “You’re going to intimidate him?”
“If that’s how he takes it.” I smile. “Lucia and her sister are graduates from La Varenne in Burgundy. They are not entitled. I don’t tolerate anything less than excellence from my blood.” I get closer. “I will dine there as a warning. And I need a guest. A date.”
“I can do that.”
I stare at Lourdes and estimate how long until I get her husband out of the way. How long until she is mine?
In my bed.