4. Theias
4
THEIAS
“ L ock it down,” I tell Lucas as I take a sip of coffee.
He smirks while scanning his fingerprint over the discreet button under the counter that secures the entire estate.
“Good luck.” He grins as he walks off, giving us privacy.
A few seconds later, I hear muttered cursing and stomping feet. Ella has left me intrigued in a way I never anticipated. I was fully prepared to tolerate but ignore her presence. However, after listening to her cries in the throes of nightmares last night, watching her break down in the shower not long ago, and now, her smart mouth, I’m curious.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out she’s been beaten, with the varying shades of black and blue tinting her face. Who the culprit is, however, is what I’d like to know.
“Lucas said I wasn’t a prisoner.” Her sharp tongue makes my dick twitch.
“Lucas doesn’t own the property.” I remain calm.
She huffs. “What am I doing here?” She’s frustrated, but there’s underlying uncertainty, as well.
Finally, I place my cup down and turn to face her. Even with the bruising, she’s a beautiful woman. Without it, I imagine she’d be a knockout. Her auburn hair cascades around her head, drawn up in a messy bun, with long tendrils tickling at her neck and shoulders. She has perfectly pouty lips I’d like to taste, with these soulful green eyes that sparkle defiantly.
“You tell me. I left an empty house and came home to an extra guest.” Her eyes narrow at my slight accusation.
“Rue said you had a job for me.” Her clenched jaw looks painful as she tries to rein in her temper.
“Lucas said… Rue said… What about what…what’s your name?” I know it, of course. It appears I like the way she doesn’t back down from me, though.
“Ella. Ella Gallagher.” I love how feminine it is.
“Ella,” I say softly, testing it out. “What about what Ella says?… You seem to listen to an awful lot of people that aren’t yourself.”
She lets out a tiny growl of frustration before stomping a foot like a child. “You’re aggravating.”
“And you’re throwing a tantrum like a little girl. Why don’t you go along to your room now until you remember your age.”
Her jaw drops as I stand to my full six-foot-five height. Fuck , I love how tiny she is–about a full foot shorter than me.
I leave the room while she’s speechless, despite how badly I want to pull her into my body and kiss away her attitude. I hope she never loses it. Sparring with her has been the most amusing part of my year.
Locking myself in my office, I give good old Nick a call.
“Hey man, how’s the girl doing?” he asks before I get a greeting.
“She’s mouthy,” I sigh.
“Really? She’s always quiet as a mouse when she’s here.” I can almost see his wicked grin.
“I spent ten minutes with her, and all we did was fight.”
Sitting back in my chair, I recall our interaction, and I can’t say I didn’t like it. She’s quick-witted with her comebacks, and I find myself eager for our next encounter.
“Theias?” I sit up when I hear Rue’s voice, annoyed still that Nick got his hands on her before me. The jealousy hasn’t lessened from that one afternoon I was around them, and she let him fuck her in front of me. “She’s fragile and on the defensive; you have to be nice.” The stern tone catches me off guard.
“She’s the one with the attitude, not me.”
Nick snorts in the background.
Rue sighs. “Please. I really believe she needs you. More than she’ll admit.”
“So, I’m the rebound?” I don’t fucking think so.
“No. You’re her forever.”
She hangs up on me before I can put my foot any further in my mouth.
There’s a knock at my door. “Come in!” I shout, still frowning.
“You constipated or something?” Caleb asks, his nose scrunched up in disgust.
“Why the fuck would you ask me that?” It would seem I’m surrounded by sarcasm today.
“You look like you’ve been sucking on lemons is all.” Dropping into the chair in front of my desk, he quickly switches subjects. “Who’s the pretty redhead all beat up?”
I sit up straighter, snarling, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
Caleb is a player. He likes to have a new girl in his bed twice a night. He’ll never settle down.
As he raises his hands in surrender, his eyes dance with amusement. “Didn’t know you’d laid claim to anyone.”
“I haven’t,” I bark, sitting back in my chair, hating how this is going.
“Sure, boss, if you say so.” He drops it after that and moves on to the meeting we must attend.
Opening the drawer in my desk, I grab the stack of cash in the envelope I’ll need. “Let’s fucking go,” I snap, ready for this fucking day to be over already, and it’s barely begun. “Lucas!” I shout for my missing assistant, knowing I’ll need his even temper and serious attitude for this meeting.
“Oh goody, a field trip.” Lucas grins as he appears from the back of the house.
“Cut the fucking sarcasm today.” My growl is met with matching looks from the two of them as we head to the front door where Owen waits.
“Yo-you’re leaving?”
I stop just as Owen opens the door and turn to find Ella standing halfway down the staircase, looking unsettled.
“Didn’t I tell you to go to your fucking room?” I’m much too aggressive today to deal with more shit, and it’s all because of her.
“Dude,” Caleb slaps my chest. “Be nice to the girl.”
“Will I be alone?” She hesitates to take a few steps farther down, pausing on the second-to-last step.
“Yes. That a problem?” My snarl is filled with a cruelty I didn’t know I could possess towards a woman.
She swallows audibly before looking to Lucas for reassurance, which only pisses me off more.
“Go back to your room,” I command. Of fucking course, she ignores me.
“Lucas?” Her pleading eyes remain focused on my assistant.
“Perhaps I could stay and keep the miss company?” he suggests, and I’d like to pound his fucking face in.
“No. She’s grown ass woman; she doesn’t need a fucking babysitter.” My gaze lasers in on Ella. “Go to your fucking room and don’t come out!” I shout, startling her.
Guilt assaults me when tears flow from her eyes, and she turns to flee my anger.
“Fuck,” I hiss. The quiet snick of her door closing only goes to show how unfair my treatment of her was.
“And you want that woman?” Caleb snorts, walking out the door, shaking his head.
“That was cold, man, even for you,” Lucas says, glaring at me.
There’s something in the way his eyes move back up to where she disappeared, some knowledge I’m not privy to. Before I can ask, he’s out the door, and it’s just Owen and me left.
“What, no comment from you?” I challenge. He shakes his head and walks out silently. I’m well and truly fucked if I think I’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell with her now.
Dropping my head back on my shoulders, I curse myself before heading out to the limo to make our meeting before we’re late. Lucas and Caleb give me the cold shoulder all the way there, despite us needing to discuss things.
“Get your shit together,” I warn as we arrive.
With the money stack firmly tucked away in my pocket, I step out of the car and head into the restaurant.
“Ahh, Mr. Lorde, welcome, welcome.” Antonio Malone offers a hand to shake. “Please, sit. I have your drink on the way.”
“Make it two,” I tell him. He freezes a moment but holds up two fingers for his bartender to see.
Caleb and Lucas sit on either side of me, appearing more relaxed than I do. I can see that Antonio is already on edge, and the silence echoes as our drinks are brought over. I toss the first one back, amused at how his eyes widen before he schools his features. Likely wondering how he’ll cover the cost of a hundred-dollar shot of my Teeling whiskey, let alone two.
“Relax, Antonio,” I say as I reach into my jacket to retrieve the envelope of cash, holding onto it when I notice he’d like to reach across the table and snag it from my fingers before I change my mind.
“Here’s the deal,” Caleb starts. “You’re in debt up to your eyeballs.”
“The asking price was a little…high,” Lucas finishes.
Caleb speaks again. “Our offer is lower but still remains fair.”
The way they switch the narrative is a strategic move I’ve learned keeps people off-kilter.
“And so, we offer thirty percent less. But…” Lucas speaks over Antonio when the man opens his mouth to object. “We’ll absorb some of the debts to your vendors so you aren’t on the hook for them all.” His alcohol supplier, in particular, is ready to come in here and burn the place to the ground.
“Thirty percent?” he croaks.
“It’s a one-time deal. If I have to come back, it lowers by another twenty,” I say.
I’m not often in the habit of buying failing businesses; however, I’m fond of Mario’s and have already slotted out an additional location on the strip that will have this place thriving in no time.
“Take it or leave it,” Caleb tells him as I sip at my second drink, thinking of the woman back at my home and wondering if she would enjoy working on a project like this one with me.