Chapter 10
TEN
SOREN
I’d shown up at Cressida’s last night to talk about the interview.
I wanted to put the damn thing off as long as possible, but she is relentless.
She’s emailed me several times already this week, including last night after I left her place.
She’s hounding me to set up an appointment to sit down with her and hold up my end of our bargain.
I tap my pen against my desk as I contemplate when I should meet with her. I know for a fact that she’s completely free this week. But at the same time, I know I should stay clear of her. For some reason, I let my guard down around her.
Yes, she’s incredibly fucking beautiful, and I can’t help imagining what it would be like to kiss her, but she is the last person I should be thinking about kissing. She’s the enemy. She could bring everything down that the Forsaken has been working so hard to achieve for so many decades.
I’ve read her stories, and I know she digs deep and goes in-depth when it comes to researching her topics.
She’s an outstanding journalist. If she weren’t working for a competitor, I would hire her myself.
But she is, and she seems to love her job.
However, the right amount of money can sway almost anyone.
But if money were that important to her, she probably would’ve stayed with her ex-husband, whose family is affluent.
I don’t think money factors into her decisions most of the time.
She doesn’t seem to be a person who is easily intimidated by wealth.
For example, a woman who is easily intimidated wouldn’t have stepped foot into the gala, knowing she was extremely underdressed and that it wouldn’t go unnoticed.
And while she’d put on a brave face, acting as if she didn’t care, later on, she’d proven to me that she did, in fact, care very much.
She was just better at hiding it than anyone I’ve ever seen before.
And thinking about the way Miranda treated her makes me clench my fist around the pen I’m holding. I may indeed have a type. But a beautiful woman easily sways a man, and there is no denying that Little Miss Hurricane is a stunning woman, with an amazing ass.
“Dinner tonight?” Maya asks as she walks into my office. I drop the pen onto my desk with more force than necessary and look up, jaw tightly clenched.
“You need to get a job,” I tell her. She gasps, her eyes going wide. “I’ll get HR to find you one.”
“Why?” She looks at me as if I just killed her favorite memory.
I shake my head and stand. “Because I’m not your husband, Maya. I am your brother. I won’t continue to support you. It’s time to get a job and stand on your own two feet. I will supply you with the tools necessary to do so.”
“I don’t want to work, Soren,” she whines. My eyes narrow, and then she adds, “I have so many hospital appointments, no job would like that.”
“I know when all your appointments are, and they won’t be an issue.” I wave her off.
She looks at me as if she doesn’t know who I am. Her forehead creases, and she takes a step back. “You don’t love me anymore?”
“You know I care for you, Maya, but you need to learn to support yourself.”
I call my assistant and ask her to join us. Layla walks in, and I wave my hand at my sister. “Find her a job.”
Layla nods and then turns to Maya.
“It better pay well, and I’m not working too many hours,” Maya says as she follows Layla out.
I sigh, knowing I’m a big part of the reason she is the way she is. I’ve always enabled her, and I am man enough to admit it. Still, there’s only so much restraint a man like me has, and lately, mine’s been fraying.
Beneath my calm veneer, the hunger claws at me, quiet, patient, waiting.
A fight in the ring. The sharp edge of a knife. The spill of blood. The only things that ever clear my head.
I push the thought down. For now.
Fuck. Now I have to clean up my own mess.
“Sir, you have a call on line one,” Layla tells me.
I don’t bother asking who it is as I pick up, and my back immediately straightens at Cressida’s voice on the other end of the line.
“I’m outside your building, Soren. Care to let me in?”