Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
He studies me like he can tell I’m lying, but he doesn’t call me on it. We climb out of the car together and head to the building. Gavino takes the lead, walking with a slight swagger like he owns the damn place—and he really might for all I know. He pulls open the doors and we step into a bland business complex with the most nondescript waiting room imaginable, barely more than a few chairs, a coffee table, and some magazines. A young woman sitting behind a reception window takes Gavino’s name and sends us right back to a conference room.
Malcolm is waiting in the hall. He beams as we approach. His gaze slides to me and his smile falters for a moment, his pupils contracting, his lips pulling down—but the uncertainty disappears a second later as he shakes Gavino’s hand.
“I see you have a new employee,” Malcolm says and laughs as he slaps Gavino’s shoulder. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised. I hear they don’t last for very long.”
“They last as long as I need them,” Gavino says, smirking as he looks at me with a lascivious twinkle in his eyes. “You tossed her aside and I thought I might put her to work instead.”
“That’s an interesting way of putting it.”
“Easy there. She’s my actual assistant now. I wouldn’t want to get slapped with a sexual harassment suit. Right, Jeanie?”
I show my teeth and nod. “That’s right, Mr. Bruno.” If he’s trying to test me, I’m about to fail and stab him in the throat.
Malcolm laughs louder, clearly delighted, and leads us into a basic conference room. The table has a phone, some glasses, a water pitcher, and a few windows affording a lovely view of a Mexican grocery store and a nail salon across the nearly empty parking lot. This room has about as much personality as a snail.
We get settled and Benedict enters a moment later. He pauses, staring at me. His eyes seem slightly unfocused and there’s a bandage wrapped around his head like it’s holding his brains together. His teeth show, his lips tugged back in a snarl, and Gavino half stands as if Benedict might dive across the table and try to throttle me. I wouldn’t be surprised—Gavino might’ve knocked something loose in that psychopath’s skull.
Instead of attacking, Benedict slowly sinks in a chair beside his boss and says nothing.
“Now then, we’re all here,” Malcolm says, ignoring the very unseemly vibes his right-hand man is giving off, and begins to shift through a stack of papers. “I believe we last left off with ownership stakes.”
The boys begin to negotiate a deal that I only vaguely understand, and after about a half-hour of boring back and forth that doesn’t lead anywhere, I finally tune them out. After a while, when it becomes clear that I have nothing to add and won’t be going anywhere anytime soon, Benedict ignores me completely, acting like I don’t exist. Twenty minutes pass before I excuse myself to use the bathroom. I splash water in my face, stare into the mirror, and try to psych myself back up. This is what you wanted. You’re right across the table from the man you hate the most. This is where you needed to be.
Except it’s not.
I wanted to be a ghost in Malcolm’s company. I wanted to hide in his mailroom, snoop through his files, and find a way to hurt him. Instead, I’m sitting in a conference room trying not to fall asleep while they argue over percentages. It’s maddening, frustrating, and I wish I could do something other than take it.
But I can’t. I know I can’t. At this point, if I want to be anywhere near Malcolm, I need Gavino.
I step back into the hallway and stiffen in shock like someone just lit off a firework and stare up as Benedict looms over me.
He’s standing directly across from the bathroom door. I consider going back inside but I doubt that would stop him. The building is empty aside from the young girl up front and our little group, and I’m not sure if anyone would hear me scream right now. The place is so quiet, like all the sound gets sucked into the thick carpet, and I’m so alone.
His eyes narrow. He doesn’t move as he lingers, staring, head tilted. I remember him pinning me down and dragging the knife across my cheek with glee. My fingers twitch toward the bandage on my face, but I resist the urge to touch it.
His lips curl.
Chapter 13
Jeanie
“Why are you here?”
The question surprises me. “I work for Gavino now.”
“Is he the one that saved your life the last time I saw you?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.” I’m not sure why I lie for him. Gavino didn’t tell me I had to, but it feels like something I need to do in order to prove my loyalty.