Chapter Three
LEONI
Isaac is slumped against the wall beside the elevators, with his head tipped back and his eyes half-closed.
I offer the security guard behind the desk a tight, apologetic smile. He doesn’t return it; he just gives me that look that says, “You shouldn’t be bringing this kind of trouble here.”
I drop down beside my brother. His eyes flicker open, unfocused for a second before he manages a weak grin.
“Shit,” I breathe, scanning him. A black eye. Split lip. Bruising along his jaw. But he’s conscious and still has that stubborn spark in his eyes. “What the hell happened?”
He tries to shrug but winces. “I can’t walk,” he murmurs, his voice raw with pain.
“Why?”
“They fucked my knees up,” he mutters. “Just… open the lift. I’ll drag myself in.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You need a hospital,” I snap, already pulling out my phone.
“No.” His tone sharpens, a flash of the old Isaac beneath the bruises. “They’ll ask questions. I know a guy who can patch me up. Just get me upstairs.”
I bite back a curse and press the call button. The lift dings open, and he hauls himself inside with a hiss of pain. I follow, Courtney close behind.
Once we reach my apartment, he collapses against the sofa and immediately starts making a call. His voice is tight, like it’s taking every effort just to speak as he arranges help.
I pour him a generous whiskey, my hand trembling slightly as I pass it over. He takes it with a grunt of thanks.
Courtney kisses the top of my head. “I’ll crash in the spare room,” she murmurs. She and my eldest brother have a history. Enough that she prefers to distance herself when he’s around.
I nod, managing a tired smile as she disappears down the hallway, leaving me alone with Isaac and a hundred unasked questions burning in my throat.
“What the hell happened?” I demand, my voice sharp.
“A little misunderstanding,” he mutters.
“Little?” My voice pitches higher. “It doesn’t look little, Isaac! Who did you upset this time?”
“I’m handling it,” he snaps back. “Don’t nag.”
“Don’t nag?” I laugh bitterly. “You turn up at my apartment beaten and high, and you tell me not to nag? Why did you even come here?”
“Because Mum will kick me out,” he says flatly. “And I’ve got nowhere else to go.”
“You’ve been flashing cash from that ‘new job’ for weeks. Can’t you afford somewhere of your own?”
He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes flicking away. “I’ve gotta iron out a few things first. Then I’ll be all good. Right now, I just need a place, Lee.”
I let out a long, frustrated sigh. “You know, I had Jordan here earlier asking the exact same thing. I came here to get away from you both, and now you both want to move in.” I fold my arms, my tone softening just a little.
“You can stay while you heal. But then you’re gone.
I’m only doing it to save Mum the stress. ”
“Thanks, sis.” He leans back, a faint smirk tugging at his bruised mouth. “Knew I could rely on you.”
I sink onto the edge of the coffee table, studying him. “Isaac, can I ask you something?”
He nods without opening his eyes.
“Is your new job legal?”
His head lifts slowly, and he fixes me with a hard stare. “Of course.”
I nod, watching him carefully. “Good. Because you know watching Dad slip into that world nearly tore this family apart. Mum couldn’t survive that again.”
“I know.” His tone softens a fraction. “You don’t have to worry about me, Leoni. I’m nothing like Dad.”
Courtney wakes me early, already dressed for work. I blink at the clock, a smile tugging at my mouth when I remember I don’t have to rush anywhere today.“There’s a man at the door asking for you,” Courtney says, as she stuffs her phone in her bag. “Didn’t give his name. But he looks familiar.”
I sigh, climbing out of bed and wrapping my silk dressing gown around me, tying the cord as I head out to open the front door.
Anthony stands there, with an all too bright smile for this time of morning. “Good morning. Mr Baxter said you’d be needing a lift into work today.”
My frown deepens. “Mr Baxter got it wrong,” I say. “I don’t work for him anymore.”
Anthony’s smile thins. He watches me for a beat, then reaches for his phone. “I don’t think he’ll be too happy if I call and repeat that.”
I hold out my hand. “I’ll call him.” He hands me the phone too willingly, and I put it to my ear.
It rings a few times, then Warren’s voice comes through, loud and clipped. “This better be good, Anthony, I'm about to slit this piece of shit’s throat.”
I lift a brow. “Careful what you say, I may use it against you in a court of law,” I say dryly. Silence crackles down the line. “It’s Leoni, by the way. Your run-around is on my doorstep and I’m confused, because I definitely told you to stick your job.” My words are flat, my tone bored.
“I don’t have time for this today. Get in the fucking car and be at the office before I arrive. I won’t ask twice.” The line goes dead.
I hand the phone back to Anthony with a tight smile and close the door in his face. “Fuck him,” I mutter, feeling like it’s at least a small victory.
Inside, Isaac is asleep on the sofa, finally calm after his doctor friend dosed him with morphine overnight.
The bandages around his knees are thick and ugly.
He said it would take weeks to heal. But at least he looks peaceful now, the bruises softened by sleep.
I move to the kitchen to make coffee, the morning suddenly as heavy as the wet blanket of rain outside.
I shower and dress even though I’ve got nowhere to be. Old habits die hard. When I’m done, I start tidying the kitchen. It’s pointless, really, since it’s already spotless, but I just want to keep busy.
A sharp knock at the door makes me freeze. I glance at Isaac, still asleep on the sofa, his breathing shallow, wondering if he’s told anyone he’s here.
I hook the safety chain before opening the door a crack, groaning when I see Warren on the other side. Relief briefly floods through me, immediately chased by irritation. “What are you doing here?” I ask, unfastening the chain. He doesn’t bother answering, just pushes the door open and strides in.
“Why didn’t you get in the car, Leoni?”
“Shh!” I hiss, gesturing toward the couch.
He follows my gaze, and his expression hardens when he sees Isaac. The air thickens.
“My brother’s sleeping. He isn’t well,” I whisper. Warren doesn’t respond. He just keeps staring, his jaw tight, eyes like flint. “Why are you here?” I press.
“I need a secretary,” he snaps. “Get your shoes and follow me.”
He pulls the door open again, waiting. When I don’t move, he exhales, irritated. “Leoni, did you hear me?”
“Yes, I heard. But I’m not coming. You can’t just order people around and expect them to do whatever you say. I quit. You’re not my boss anymore.”
“I’ll drag you out of here if I have to,” he warns, his voice dangerously low. “You signed a contract. If you break it without written notice, you’re in breach.”
I fold my arms. “No one actually takes those things seriously.”
His eyes widen in disbelief. “You think you can just ignore a contract?”
“Maybe?” I shrug, suddenly less sure of myself.
“No, Leoni,” he says, stepping closer. “It’s a legal document. I can take you to court. Now, get your shoes.”
My confidence wavers. Can he really do that? I chew my lip, then slip on my heels and grab my handbag.
His mouth twitches with satisfaction. “Good girl.”
I ignore the shiver his words send straight to my… I shake my head to clear the fog. “I’ll give you written notice by the end of the day,” I mutter. “It’s a month, right?”
We step into the corridor. Warren presses the elevator call button, giving me an amused look.
“You really didn’t read the contract, did you?”
I shake my head.
He laughs. “Christ, who the hell signs a contract without reading it?”
“They all look the same. I just needed the job.”
“Clearly. If you had read it, you’d know you owe me eight weeks’ notice.”
“Eight?” I screech. “That’s ridiculous.”
He smirks. “You signed to say you agreed.”
The doors slide open, and we step inside. Silence falls, thick and charged. I can feel the energy crackling between us, unspoken, unwanted, undeniable.
“So,” he says finally. “Your brother.”
“Isaac,” I correct, meeting his eyes.
His gaze sharpens. “He’s upset someone?”
“Apparently. He’s a closed book. I don’t know the details.”
“Does he live with you?”
I shake my head. “He just needs somewhere to stay for a bit. Mum worries, she doesn’t need the stress. He’ll go home once he’s better.”
“And the people he upset? He didn’t say who they were?”
“No.”
The doors open. The security guard glances up and nods at Warren, who barely acknowledges him.
“What if those people come looking for him here?” Warren asks quietly.
“They won’t. How would they even know he’s here?”
Outside, his car idles at the curb. Anthony’s already waiting. He opens the passenger door for me.
“Good morning, Anthony,” I say, sliding in.
He smirks. “Morning, Miss Dove.”
WARREN
I loosen my tie and pace the office floor, fury burning a steady rhythm through my veins.
“I’ll do a full check,” Anthony says, already pulling out his laptop.
“This has my father written all over it,” I mutter, clenching my jaw with irritation.
“And you’re sure it was the same guy?”
I glare at him. “I asked her. She said his name’s Isaac, her brother. You’re telling me it’s a coincidence an injured guy named Isaac’s sleeping on her couch when we just happened to rough up a dealer by the same name? The same face?”
Anthony lifts a shoulder helplessly. “Fair point.”
“My father hired her,” I say, pacing again. “I checked with Synthia yesterday. She told me Leoni was fucking up the interview and my father interrupted and hired her there and then.”
“Let’s see what the checks bring back.”
Anthony types quickly, fingers flying across the keyboard. After a few minutes, he frowns. “That’s strange. There’s nothing. Her records are clean, too clean. It’s like someone wiped them.”