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“Hit me with it.”
She stopped typing. “Instead of formatting an apology for the media, I think we should make him go to some sort of rehab, or therapy, or something for men like him. Siphoning money from assholes like him is fun, sure. But, when do we draw the line between taking their money and getting them legitimate help for the issues they keep bringing to us?”
“We aren’t a mental health company, Shonda.”
“I mean, there isn’t much we can do for him, anyway, outside of the apology and making that monetary account public. But you know the masses are still going to crucify him.”
And that’s when a devilish smile slithered across my face. “Oh, I’m counting on it, Shonda.”
She blinked. “You’re sneaky, you know that?”
I chuckled as my gaze peeked back out the window at Eden’s barely-clothed body. “Draw up the contract and send it over. Let me know what he says.”
“Will do, sir. Anything else?”
I pinned her with a look. “Go home when lunch hits. I’ll see you Monday morning.”
“Yes, sir.”
As the video call ended, a shiver of anticipation flooded my veins. I loved bleeding these assholes dry. I loved watching them take out second mortgages on their properties and selling off their useless, shining cars just to make ends meet. I got to play modern-day Devil on a daily basis, doing deals and swiping people’s monetary souls from them. I loved it. I loved dragging them through Hell and back to pay for the sins they dumped at my feet.
But, even the Devil himself had lines he wouldn’t cross.
My phone started vibrating before a little icon on my laptop screen popped up. I paused, watching as the unknown, restricted number rang, and rang, and rang. I looked down at my phone screen and found the word RESTRICTED in all caps blinking at me. I gazed back at my laptop screen and found the word UNKNOWN scrolling across the top of the little text box that had popped up.
So, I picked up my phone and kept my voice as even as possible.
“This is Dominik.”
“I know who you are.”
I didn’t recognize the voice. “Who is this?”
“Not important,” the voice said, “what’s important is the fact that you’re digging. Stop digging.”
I stood to my feet. “Who the fuck is this? How did you get this number?”
“You’ve been warned, Mr. Drake. And if you don’t stop, the consequences of your actions will be seen.”
“I asked you a question,” I said as my voice lowered into my chest, “who in the fuck is--?”
The nameless, faceless voice ceased to exist as the call itself stopped. I pulled up the incoming phone call to see if, by any chance, there was something attached to it. A number, or a name, or an area code, or something that pointed me in the direction of who in the absolute fuck thought they could threaten me.
And as I stood there with my phone in my hand, a notification popped up on my phone.
A notification that also made my laptop ding.
“Fuck,” I murmured.
The email title simply said, “Full Story,” and I knew what the contents contained. Every answer regarding Eden’s father and how it connected to the banquet was contained within that email. And yet, I had just received a phone call telling me to stop?
I knew better than to believe in coincidences. But I also knew better than to take orders from some coward on the other end of a cell phone. So, I eased myself back down into my desk chair and opened up the email.
I was never one to resist a good mystery, anyway.
