Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
My body trembles, and I know he sees it. Men like him can sniff out a woman’s fear in seconds, and they know exactly how to use those fears against their target. What I don’t understand is how I became his target without even opening my mouth. I want to run for the door, but I’m stronger than that. Well, not really. I’m a scared little bitch at heart, but Stone Blackthorne doesn’t need to know that. As far as he’s concerned, he just met his match.
Judging by the hatred in his eyes, his rigid posture, and his clear lack of enthusiasm, I think it’s safe to assume that he had absolutely no intention of attending this interview. I’d dare say he even flat-out refused, but seeing as though his lawyer arranged all of this, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t given an option.
A guard yanks Stone forward by his cuffed wrists and shoves him down into the seat directly opposite mine. The same guard connects Stone’s cuffs to a lock on the table.
“Alright, Miss Ashford,” the guard says—I think his name was Jensen. “He’s all yours.”
Attempting to recover from the initial wave of terror pulsing through my veins, I offer a small smile to the guard. “Are the cuffs necessary?” I ask, waving toward Stone’s wrists, though I don’t know why I ask. There’s no chance in hell this guy is about to set this killer free in a room full of innocent people. Perhaps it’s some misguided attempt at trying to win over Stone’s approval, or maybe I’d like him to reconsider whatever judgment of his that’s causing him to look at me with so much hatred.
Jensen nods. “The cuffs stay,” he mutters, turning to his men and making some small hand signals. Two of the guards fall out of the room immediately, pulling the door closed behind them and hovering just outside, their big shoulders visible through the small window in the door. Jensen and one other guard remain in the conference room, hovering in either corner, their hands resting on their weapons.
This is insane. I knew it would be a wild experience, but I hadn’t quite anticipated this.
Letting out the last of my fear, I raise my chin and focus my stare back on Stone, ready to get this show on the road. I can collapse the moment I’m outside of these walls, but until then, it’s showtime.
Pulling on the bottom of my sage blazer, I try to settle my racing heart as I start my introductions. “Mr. Blackthorne, my name is Aria Ashford. I am a junior at Pulse Media, and I’ll be conducting your interview today. Now, if you don’t mind, Andy here is going to fix you with a small microphone, then we’ll be able to get started. Do you have any questions?”
Stone just stares, a thick disappointment in his eyes mixed with a strange curiosity as though he’s trying to work me out, but he won’t find much. There’s nothing exciting about me. I pretty much gave him the whole gist of my life in that one introduction.
With no response from Stone, Andy gets started, fearlessly clipping a small microphone to the edge of Stone’s chest pocket before stepping away. By his expression, you can tell he doesn’t like his space being invaded, let alone being touched.
“Alright, I don’t want to keep you any longer than necessary, and we have a lot to get through, so I suppose we should get started,” I say, gripping the backrest of my seat and pulling it out.
Before I can sit down across from Stone, Jedd braces a hand on my shoulder, bringing me to a stop.
“This is a hot mess already,” Jedd mutters, shaking his head in exasperation. “Step aside, Aria. I’ll be taking it from here.”
What in the ever-loving fuck?
“I’m sorry. What?” I ask, doing a double take as I glance back at Jedd, positive that I heard him wrong. There’s no way he’s trying to take this interview right out of my hands at the very last minute, especially not after all the work I put in to make this happen. Not to mention the hoops I had to jump through to get a camera crew in here.
“Now is not the time,” Jedd murmurs, lowering his tone to keep this private, despite the fact that we are in a small concrete room, and every person here is within arm’s reach of each other. “As the CEO and founder of Pulse Media, all project assignments are left to my discretion, and it is abundantly clear that you are not experienced enough to take on a case such as this.”
I see red. Burning fucking red.
How dare he try to claim that I am not experienced enough for this. Sure, I haven’t had any high-profile interviews yet, which is entirely his fault, but judging by the piles of notes and research I have done for this, nobody can claim that I am not prepared.