Page 113 of Boardroom Mask

I pull back as fast as I can, but I can’t help feeling like I let something loose that should’ve been kept caged for as long as possible.

The man turns around. The white mask covers him from forehead to cheekbone, but below it, the jaw is heavier, squarer, and more stubbled, with a grim mouth set in a flat line.

He looks down at me. The flickering lamplight catches the edge of his jaw and throws the rest of his face into shadow.

“Ah. You must be the girl.”

There’s nothing friendly in his voice, and in no way is it a question. He knows exactly who I am.

And the spark of violent pleasure in his black eyes says I’m just the woman he was looking for.

45

JILLIAN

“You are my sweetest downfall / I loved you first, I loved you first”

— “Samson” by Regina Spektor

The stranger’s hand releases mine, but only so it can close around my upper arm instead. He steers me sideways through a skinny gap between two shelving units and into another small alcove tucked behind a velvet curtain. A wall sconce throws pale, weak light across his jaw and throat.

I yank my arm free. “Get your hands off me.”

He lets me go and doesn’t reach for me again. He just stands there, blocking the only way out. The mask makes it impossible to read anything above the mouth, and the mouth isn’t giving me much.

“Who are you?” I demand.

“A friend of Kir’s.”

“Kir doesn’t have friends.”

“He has one.”

“Then he should’ve mentioned you,” I say, pressing my back against the shelf behind me. “Because I’ve spent a lot of time with Kir lately and your name has never come up.”

“Do you want to know my name, or do you want to know what I came to tell you?”

My stomach drops, but I keep my face blank.Reporter Face, Reporter Face, Reporter Face,I chant inwardly. I gotta put my masks back on, all of them that matter, because I’m starting to get a very nasty feeling about what this man found me to share. “I don’t know what you’re?—”

“Stop.” He holds up one hand, palm out. “I didn’t come here to play games with you, Ms. Pierce, and I don’t have time for the part where you pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

I shut my mouth.

“If you keep going like this, you’re going to get yourselfandhim killed.” The man edges closer. He smells cool and fragrant, aquamarine and forest. The stubble on his face is black as night over snow-white skin beneath.

“Kir was given an assignment,” he continues. “You know what it was. He hasn’t done it. You know that, too.” His mouth tightens. “What youdon’tknow is what happens on the other end of that failure. What his father does when patience runs out.”

“And what does his father do?”

“He stops delegating.”

I swallow. The air in the alcove is thick and dusty. I’m finding it harder and harder to breathe.

“Kir is lying to Lukas,” the man continues. “Telling him the job is almost done, complications have slowed things, blah fucking blah. He’s been trying to buy time, but it’s not working anymore. And the consequences will be severe. For both of you.”

“Both of us,” I repeat.

“Both of you.” He says it again, slower, like I’m hard of hearing. “Go ahead—tell me you’ll take the risk, you don’t care, you’re not afraid. But what about him? You think you’re the only one at risk here? Kir is putting his own neck on the line just to keep you breathing. And he’s doing it badly. So let me repeat myself: Get out before you’re both slaughtered and scattered.”