Chapter 15
LEONORE
Ihear when they arrive, but I choose not to get up and let them in right away.
I know it’s weird that I lie on the cold floor when there are dead bodies in the room.
Well, at least it would be weird to others, but it’s not weird to me.
I can hear them knocking on the door, and I close my eyes and count backward from ten very slowly.
It’s been a while since I’ve been the cause of someone else’s death, but that death bothers me.
The last time I was to blame for someone’s death, I was sixteen, and a grown-ass man was putting his hands on me.
I didn’t know it at the time, but I somehow killed him.
Luckily for me, I had the right people around me at the time, so it never tracked back to me.
But what they found on his phone, non-consensual pictures of other women, was more of an issue than who killed the bastard.
Tonight, I was drawn back to that same dark place, different from the controlled version of myself I display to others. The polished version of me that hides in the shadows, under the radar. And I showed her to the last person I ever wanted to meet her. Silas Vescari. Fuck.
“You are very peculiar,” a dark voice fills in from behind me, then I hear more footsteps.
My temple pulses. I’m certain I locked the fucking door. Turns out that the rules he expects to be applied to others, as in others not being able to break in and steal the body of one of his crew members, don’t seem to apply to him.
No, Silas believes he owns everything and everyone, and right now, I do everything I can to drown him out, trying to ground myself and bring me back from that violent, twisted version of myself, whether he’s watching or not.
“Where do you want him?” one of his men asks who, I assume, is carrying the body. I sigh. As the old saying goes, if you can’t beat them, join them. I don’t want to fuck around with Silas tonight. I want him to drop the body off and be gone, so we can both pretend tonight didn’t happen.
I remain on the floor, not moving, eyes still closed, as I point at one of the empty trolleys for them to put him on. They walk past me, and I crack open one eye as I watch them place him down. Then they both look down at me, eyebrows pinched as they leave the room.
“Do you plan to just lie there?”
I close my eyes to his voice. “Since you seem to know how to break into my workplace, break yourself out.”
The room seems to drop another degree, and I try to keep my breath as I feel him close, the hair on my skin prickling with his proximity.
I open my eyes to find him directly above me.
“Go on a date with me.” I blink a few times at his words. Did he really just say that? I’m pretty sure I just threatened not that long ago to bite off his penis and shove it up his ass. Yet here he is asking me on a date.
“No,” I say immediately. He doesn’t seem turned off by my answer. Instead, he smirks and offers his hand to help me up. Huffing out a breath, I take it, and he pulls me up so fast that my body slams into his. Hard. But his other hand falls to my lower back, locking me into place.
“Why not?”
My hands press against his chest, and I go to push back. At first, I think he won’t let me go, but then his hands drop.
“Because we work together,” I tell him.
“Is that the only reason?” he asks.
“And I don’t date,” I say with a shrug.
“Okay, so how about you come and spend the night at mine, no dating.” I walk to the prep station, grab a pair of gloves, and start snapping them on.
“No.”
“So you don’t fuck either?” he pushes. A hot flush runs between my legs because the thought of this man—
“Oh, I do. Just not with you,” I throw back at him quickly. I will never let this man know that I’ve thought about him once or twice. A release I’m certain this man can give me. Fuck no, not going down that path.
This is business. And I don’t mix business and pleasure.
“Now that’s rude…” he says with a smirk.
I glare at him from across the room. “If memory serves correctly, the only reason we have to speak in the first place is because of the business matter we agreed on. Yet, instead of giving me more bodies and any context, I haven’t helped at all.
So I’m going to make it clear—I don’t get involved with clients, Mr. Vescari. ”
I hate the slow smirk that plays at his lips. “Oh, you’ve helped plenty, Leonore. Can’t blame a man for trying. It is sexy to see a woman handle herself with a gun.”
A cold chill runs down my spine at the thought of him seeing a side to me I’ve kept hidden from everyone else.
“If you say so. Good night, Mr. Vescari.” I wave him off and reach for my gown, hardening my nonchalant demeanor. I can’t let him see through the cracks anymore. The more curious he becomes with me personally, the more dangerous it becomes for me.
I hear his retreating footsteps and immediately start the music, looking over my shoulder to make sure he is gone. When I can sense that I’m alone, I finally let another deep breath out. I need to pretend tonight didn’t happen. It was a little blip. That’s all.
I get to work.
Nessa is drunk by the time I get to Soph’s apartment. She lets me in, and I instantly realize how small the place is. I can see by the railings installed that it has been set up for someone with mobility issues.
“She wanted to forget…” Soph says. “So I let her go to the corner shop, and she came back with a bottle of vodka.” She bites her bottom lip. We both turn to see her singing into the vodka bottle as she sways her hips and dances.
My heart fractures a tiny bit, hating that she was ever in this situation in the first place. That I wasn’t there sooner to stop it from ever happening. But that doesn’t serve either of us now. If she needed to forget into a bottle, then so be it. I’m here for her.
“It’s fine. I’ll take her back to mine and pick up Larissa on the way home. Thank you for helping, Soph.”
“Thanks, I would say she can stay, but I need my sleep for work tonight.” She looks toward a closed door, and I wonder if her mother is sleeping in there.
It’s early hours, and the sun is rising.
She’s been up all night already looking after Nessa for me.
Soph runs a hand down her face, clearly tired.
I open my purse and pull out a hundred-dollar bill and try to hand it to her, but she shakes her head right away.
“No, I don’t need your money, honestly; I’ve had a few good shifts lately.” She lifts a dismissive hand, but I know she does. Because she works almost every night. I get it, I really do. Walking over to Nessa, I take the bottle from her.
“Let’s go.”
“But I was having so much fun,” she sings, and I hear a cry come from the other room.
“It’s my mother. It’s time for her meds,” Soph quickly explains. She goes to her kitchen and starts opening drawers as I wrestle with Nessa to get going. I leave the hundred-dollar note on her couch as I pry the mostly empty bottle from Ness’s fingers, noticing she’s also spilled some on the couch.
Despite her loose limbs, I manage to get her out of the apartment. As soon as we are in the car, she passes out. I throw worried glances in her direction, the black mascara still running down her face, and now her hair definitely needs to be brushed. And she smells like vodka.
When I arrive at her apartment, I look at her again.
Still passed out cold. I leave her in the car briefly as I walk toward her front door.
Normally, I would stay here, but I have a lot of reports to complete, and my home computer is linked to my office one, so it’s easier to do from home. Besides, I want her to feel safe.
Walking in, I find Larissa and her sitter already awake. Larissa runs to me, and I send her sitter home before we head to my apartment. It’s nothing amazing, but its comfortable and I have a spare room.
Larissa immediately runs to my massive TV, finds the remote, and turns on her favorite show.
She doesn’t question me bringing in her mother, half asleep as I take her to the bedroom and lay her down, pulling off her shoes.
She mumbles something in her sleep, but I turn off the light and shut the door so she can get some rest. I hope her sleep is peaceful and she’s not brought back to that scary moment.
Larissa is easy to manage. I have a big smile as I pull the gift I promised her out of the closet.
“Your princess dress.” I show her the pink sparkly dress.
She squeals and immediately slides it on.
“I don’t have a cake, but I can do pancakes again?
” She nods excitedly. Of course, she does.
We talk about her friends as I cook pancakes, and I enjoy having a peaceful moment.
To live through the eyes of someone so carefree and untainted by the brutality of our world.
I vow that she will never experience what her mother has, or what I have.
All of us have scars we have to live with that are rarely voiced. I was confronted with my own once again, pressed by a man as devilish as he is handsome.
The temptation is not the problem. It’s my slight curiosity that wants to lean into it that is. But I remind myself to be ironclad because taking one step on this path will fuck up everything I’ve built.
My phone starts buzzing, and as I go to look at it, I realize it’s the camera activating at the morgue.
Pulling it up, I see a guy dressed in all blue drop something off at the door before he walks away.
I zoom in and see it’s a dozen black roses.
I don’t want to know who they’re from. And they can sit by the front door, for all I care.
I refuse to be tempted by any of the families.
Especially Silas Vescari.