He recovered quickly, sitting back with a smile, mischief flickering in his eyes. “For you, Eon? Anything. But it’ll cost you.”
I raised a brow. “And what’s the price?”
“Dinner,” he replied, grinning. “And maybe a drink or two. So we can discuss the results, of course.”
I definitely heard an annoyed grunt through my comms this time.
“We need this translation. Push his timeline.” I’d almost forgotten Cy was listening in.
“Almost sounds like a date, Hiromi. What do you say to this Friday?”
His confident smile faltered just slightly. “You drive a hard bargain.”
“Not up for the challenge?” I sipped my tea, letting him watch my lips. The tea was cold now, and I grimaced.
Then, his hand was over mine, completely enveloping it. I felt the warmth of his soft palm as he gripped the cup. His other hand rose to the small spoon inside, gripping it between his thumb and forefinger. The metal started to glow red-hot, and he stirred the tea until it warmed in my hands.
My gaze met his, and his eyes were alight with the flames of his Flux. The warmth of the tea echoed the sudden heat pooling in my lower belly.
“I think you know,” he murmured, “that I could never resist a good mystery, Eon. I’ll pick you up at seven on Friday.”
CHAPTER 31
CY
Here’s the thing about most people who grow up in Magenta: they can never get the stench off. No matter how far they rise, how rich they get, they still wear the filth of that place like a scar. My corporate-assigned therapist said it was trauma. I don’t think that word gets close. It’s a rot that stretches into your soul and never lets you go.
I’d never tried to scrub it out. Wore it like a badge of honor—even with my fancy corpo job and paycheck. I’d known plenty who’d tried and failed.
Eon did it with ease.
As she sat there at the café table, no one—not even me—would’ve thought her anything but a high-class woman. A professor, maybe a manager at POM. She changed herself so completely: her speech, her posture, the way she smiled. I saw now how she’d fooled me so easily, and I had to admit I was impressed. Once again, I thought about how she would make an excellent asset. The ability to chameleon herself into any situation was a skill that couldn’t be taught.
When that kuso majimerolled up in his expensive shirt and slacks, they made the perfect picture. Like something straightout of a fuckin’ hoload for Elysium University.Look at the future you could have if you just studied here.He pulled her into a hug and practically enveloped her. How tall was this asshole anyway? 6’4”?
He flirted with her like any man in his right mind would. But I knew he only saw the pretty picture. He saw what he wanted from her, and she was good—too good—at giving it. But I knew her. I knew her dirty, ruined soul, and it only made me want her more. He could never have her the way I could—every broken piece of her.
“Hiromi Yamamoto, age twenty-six. Post-doctoral candidate at Elysium University, College of Cyber Engineering and Linguistics. Quite the résumé.” Maddox read off his screen, letting out a soft whistle. “Offered a job straight out of his PhD at both POM and MedTek, but turned them down to do post-doctoral work.”
“Easy to turn down a job when you come from money,” I said through gritted teeth. The stench of old wealth practically rolled off this guy. It smelled like fancy cologne, weak morals, and mommy issues.
“Also says here that he volunteers weekly at the GeoFlux victims clinic,” Maddox continued.
A fucking saint—and built like a double-door refrigerator. All the damn angels in the world couldn’t convince me there was a fair god up in heaven. “It does not fucking say that.”
Maddox just gave me a wide grin. “Mother and father both still in Japan. His father is the president of Yamamoto Industries—biggest air-car manufacturer in the world.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. Kid probably doesn’t know how to wipe his own ass.”
“You think your girlfriend feels that way?” Maddox asked with a sly grin, and I swear I almost shot him right there. I could hear the way she’d softened her voice to that timbre thathad once moaned my name. Hearing her use it to say his name had my Flux pulsing, the terminals in our ground-van glitching. Maddox frowned.
“Man, I told you—this was a fucking bad idea. You’re way too into this girl. It’s making you sloppy.”
“I am not fuckinginto her. I want that bonus, and I want to take a vacation somewhere clean and surrounded by pussy. That’s it.”
Maddox turned back to the screen, his frown deepening.
“What now?” I asked.
