Epilogue Bolton
ONE WEEK LATER…
“You can’t fire me! You owe Knightmare Publishing a book!” Meredith screeches.
“Um, Yes I can. You’re my agent—you act as an intermediary between the publisher and I. After Cal talked with them, we found out you weren’t even doing that.”
Meredith had hounded me again for my manuscript, and I couldn’t take it anymore.
I knew I had to get rid of her and find a better agent.
Cal had called Knightmare Publishing, and it turns out Meredith lied to me.
She never asked them about my writing gay romance.
They have a new imprint specifically for LGBTQ+ romance and are more than happy to have me on the roster.
They’re so supportive that they extended my contract by three more months, so I can finish my new story.
It’s about a graphic designer who’s hired at a new company.
His boss is an older, sexy executive. Or so he thinks.
Turns out, he moonlights as a vigilante.
Together, they solve his brother’s disappearance and bring him home from a human trafficking ring.
“Meredith, here’s what’s going to happen,” Cal cuts in. “You’re going to shut up, and accept that Bolton is letting you go. If you slander my husband, or say a word about him beyond ‘Oh, he was a great client’, I’ll make sure you never work in this industry again. Do you understand me?”
The fight drains from her, and she nods in agreement. She’s smart enough not to cross my husband.
“Great! I look forward to never interacting with you past this video call. Have the life you deserve, Publishing Satan. My lawyer will be in touch.” I end the call.
It feels as if an immense weight has been lifted from my chest. I can finally breathe.
“How does it feel to be the newest gay romance author at Knightmare Publishing?” Cal asks me.
“Amazing. I can finally publish the stories I want to write.” Stories that should have been published years ago. I hug him, and he kisses my temple.
“I can’t wait to read your newest book. Does it have a title yet?”
I doubt my new agent will care if I share the title with Cal. Emanuel is way more laid back than Meredith was. “I’m thinking of something like Boss Knight or Under Cover of Darkness. We’ll see.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Maybe when you’re done writing, we can celebrate and get Moroccan food?”
I’m always down to eat, especially if I don’t have to cook it. “Of course.”
Cal leaves, and I open up my rough draft and pick back up in the middle of a spicy scene.
Dante closes his office door, spinning me around and pinning me to it with brutal efficiency. I can feel the heat of his body at my back—the anger simmering in him as if I stood at the edge of a volcano ready to erupt.
“What did you say?” he asks me, his voice deceptively calm.
Anyone else would think he’s asking for clarification, but I know better… I’ve seen this man slit someone’s throat in a dark alley. He’s a stone-cold killer, and he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of me if I pose a threat. But I need to try—Jack’s life depends on it.
“I know you’re some kind of vigilante murderer. You killed Max Hart; saw you slit his throat in the alley behind the building.”
He presses into me from behind, and I feel something unmistakably hard press into my back…
For fuck’s sake, he has an erection. How fucked up is he for getting off on this?
“Oh yeah, what are you going to do about it?” His voice is right next to my ear. I imagine him biting it, but I’m not filled with dread or disgust. I’m warm all over, and unsure of what it means, so I ignore it.
“I won’t tell a soul if you do something for me.” Silence fills the room, and I take a deep breath. It’s now or never. “Help me find my brother, Jack Roscoe.”