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Mia releases a long exhale, full of patience. “Sirenna, I know why you’ve really been avoiding Declan and Jax. You’re ashamed of the situation Joseph put you in at The Rite. All those guys and–” She stops in time, surely seeing the heat creeping up my cheeks. “But there’s nothing to be ashamed of. They understand better than anyone. Besides, if you feel like shit, how am I supposed to feel? No one actually put their dick inside you that night while Declan fucked all my holes in front of the entire crowd.”
“And you sound fucking proud about it.”
“There you go,” she says, running her fingers through my hair as the heat leaves my face.
“Sometimes all it takes to make a girl feel better is pointing out that someone else should be feeling worse.”
She laughs. “Always glad to be of service. Now, how do you plan to get to Zayne Thorngren?” She taps her index finger against my temple. “Because I know this brilliant mind already has a plan.”
***
Sirenna
“THE PLACE IS A FUCKING fortress,” Mia says desolately from behind her pumpkin spice latte. We’ve been sitting at a Starbucks across from the headquarters of BioThorn for almost an hour, watching for weaknesses in the access system that we might be able to use. “There’s no way to get past that kind of security.”
The building is a monolith of glass and granite, and the security at its entrance is worthy of an airport. It’s gonna be even worse inside. No one gets to meet even the lesser-ranked scientists without an appointment made months in advance if the group with name tags waiting in line is any indication. Science students, for sure, restless, enthusiastic, and greedy. I remember a time when I was like that. Before Joseph destroyed that version of me.
“I think I have an idea,” I whisper as a new plan forms in my head. Mia turns her face toward me, all ears.
Twenty minutes later, I’m prancing towards the long security line like it’s my birthright. My displayed confidence is enough to make the groups of students and other visitors step out of the way, but that doesn’t stop a guard from planting himself in front of me.
“Your appointment confirmation, ma’am.”
I raise my eyebrows like I can’t believe his guts.
“You can’t be serious,” I bark out. “Really now, in all the years I’ve known Zayne, he’s never put me in a situation like this.”
It is my calculation that nerds like Thorngren are always hard at work. Their idea of fun is coming up with new ways of making the world in awe of them, and sometimes those ways are about how to get high-tech engineered drugs on the streets just to piss off the mainstream mafia and make them feel obsolete and useless. So, I’m betting on him being in his office or in some lab right this minute. True, he could be at whatever other location since he’s got over fifty facilities in the country, and not even Google can provide a count of the international ones. But his headquarters is where he can supervise things the best, so yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s here.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step away,” the man presses back without the slightest change to his tone.
“And I would advise you not to make enemies you can’t hold your own against.” I look around to make a point and then lean just a little closer to him. “You’re making me look stupid in front of all these people, and that’s bad for my PR.”
He squints his eyes at me. I stare back like I expect him to recognize me.
“I’ll contact Mr. Thorngren’s office,” he announces, already reaching for the inside pocket of his suit. Ice shoots down my spine.
“I suggest that you refrain. It’s going to seriously damage my image, and if that happens, I’ll come after you.” Lowering my voice even more, I say, “I have a pack of savage lawyers at the ready, so leave that thing inside your pocket if you like your life nice and quiet.”
Keeping up the iron attitude is a strain. I can feel beads of sweat appearing on my forehead. Mia must be watching from the Starbucks with her teeth sunk into her lower lip, her eyes wide, her heart pounding.
The man’s frown deepens, the suspicion in his eyes reaching new depths. Every healthy instinct in me screams just to drop this and turn away. Sweat breaks out down my back, and it costs me a superhuman effort to stay put. The man’s lips thin out, and so do mine, the visiting groups growing restless behind me. That’s it, I need to play my last card.
I straighten my back and reach for my phone. After a few swipes, I hold it out in front of his face. It’s an article about Joseph and me attending a charity together about six months ago, with pictures of us arm in arm. I’m holding a glass of champagne in my free hand, as I always am in pictures, and my eyes are slightly drooping. The guy’s shoulders seem to grow less tense, but he’s still not convinced.
“Maybe you should call Mr. Thorngren directly,” he says in an attempt to push the responsibility away.
I roll my eyes, tucking my phone into the pocket of my leather trench coat. “I’m sure you know as well as I do that he always sets his phone on silent mode when working.”
It seems I just hacked the password because, after a few moments of lingering hesitation, the man finally moves out of my way.
“Welcome to BioThorn, Mrs. Carter.” I walk past him with a straight back, the air leaving my lungs slowly. My head is spinning, and I can’t believe I actually made it.
But the moment I leave the tedious security area, the feeling of relief is replaced by pure awe.
I’ve been to many impressive places with Joseph, including Declan Santori’s fantasy-movie-worthy villa on the night of The Rite, but this is a whole new level of what-the-fuck-am-I-looking-at. Elevators crawl up glass walls that make the building seem like a castle made of crystal, spiraling stairs, and luscious granite. Scientists walk hurriedly by, faces bent over outlandish-looking devices.
“I trust you know your way from here?” the security guy says.
