Series: Penny Dee
Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“You declined my invite?” he asks me.
“Yes,” I say, reaching for my coffee and taking a sip, trying my hardest to pretend the six-foot, pure muscle beside me that smells of citrus and wood isn’t ruining my fucking day.
“May I ask why?”
He always talks so formally. Until he is threatening to kill me, that is.
“I see no reason to go. We will be working together. I do not have relationships with those I work with outside of work,” I inform him.
“Yes, I can tell. My files summarize as much, and in Valen’s words, you seem more of a ‘black cat’ with very few friends.” Ah, Valen, the man he sent with the invitation.
I think his words are meant to sting, but they don’t because they’re true.
I can count all the important things in my life on one hand.
I prefer it that way.
Because life is different when you have a lot to lose.
You’re easier to break when you love too many things.
“You research everyone?” I ask him.
“Yes, especially those I will be working with closely.”
“Closely?” I level him with a look. “I work by myself.”
“Well, until all things considered, right?”
My grip tightens around the coffee mug, my knuckles turning white. All things considered, meaning a body going missing.
“I still don’t know what happened,” I say quietly as Larissa continues to eat her pancakes. He leans back, getting more comfortable in his chair as if he has all the time in the world. His silence feels oppressive as he takes up more space. More than I’m willing to let him have.
I turn to him and grit through my teeth, trying to hush my cutting words so Larissa doesn’t hear. “I don’t appreciate being ambushed, Mr. Vescari.”
“And I don’t like—”
“Being told no. Yeah, I get that.”
He folds his arms over his chest. “I thought an ambitious woman such as yourself, who’s always in control, would be more accountable for what was lost under her care.”
It stabs where it’s meant to. I go to speak, then close my mouth. Because he’s right. But we’re still at the same conclusion. I don’t know any more than he does. And if he’s here, it means he hasn’t found anything either. Why else would he be bothering me?
Either way, this isn’t at my office, and I can’t risk being seen out in public with him by any of the other families. No exceptions made—even for Silas Vescari.
“You almost ready?” I ask Larissa even though I know she is only halfway through. But she nods her head anyway. I feel bad rushing her, but the sooner we’re out of here, the better.
“Running off so soon?” he quips.
My eyes slice to his.
“I hate company,” I say with a forced smile. “Unless it’s paid for—in my office.”
“Well, I did make a down payment for your time.” Before I can reply, he turns and looks at Larissa. “Would you like to come to a princess-themed birthday party?” he asks her. Larissa’s eyes go wide. And she looks at me expectantly. This motherfucker is really trying to convince me he’s a family man.
“Can we, Leo?” she says and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Since when do we go to stranger’s houses?” I remind her, trying my hardest to keep my fucking cool around this guy. I hate how perceptive he is, using Larissa against me in such a way.
“But he’s not a stranger. His name is Silas,” she says matter-of-factly.
I give her a pointed look. “Not today, baby. Besides, your mom will be waking up soon.”
I feel his eyes on me then, and I want to punch him in each one of them for putting me in this situation. Did he do it on purpose just to show me how easy it is for him to slip into my life? Is he threatening me?
“But it’s got princesses.” Larissa pouts and her little chin quivers, and I decide it’s not too early in the morning for murder.
I look back at him to see him smirking, and I hate him.
“Just for an hour, you can meet the family. My niece doesn’t have many friends around her age, so I think she’ll love it,” he says with a smile so genuine I believe him. Except I don’t trust him.
“What part of ‘this is just business’ is confusing for you?” I ask him, gripping my coffee.
“You should accept my invite,” he pushes, and I stand, holding my hand out for Larissa to take.
I glare down at him, scathing. “I understand you have a large team.” I try my hardest to remain professional and discreet. “But I do not answer to you simply because you snap your fingers. You should accept people’s answers.”
“If I did that, I would not be where I am today,” he replies matter-of-factly. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“You said no guests,” I remind him.