“I'll be there in twenty minutes,” I say and hang up without another word.
“What's wrong?” Luna asks, sitting up straighter. “Your face just went from glowy to ghostly.”
I clench the phone in my hand. “I just lost the Henderson account. Forty-million dollars down the drain.” I grab my bag from the back of the chair, my mind already racing through the implications and the press fallout that will inevitably follow. Colonna Consulting just lost a forty-freaking-million-dollar deal. That is not going to give my other clients a warm and fuzzy feeling about working with my firm. And no matter how we spin it, the business world will come up with their own take. Which will most likely crush my company. “Oh, and to make matters worse, my father-in-law is camped out at my office demanding to see me.”
“Eamon?” Luna's face darkens, her expression etched with distrust and disgust. “What the hell does he want?”
"Nothing good, I’m sure. That man is pure evil. Selfish, self-centered. A total bastard. But we already knew that, didn’t we?" I stand up and drop some cash on the table to cover the meal we never ordered. “I'm so sorry, Lulu. Raincheck on lunch?”
“Go.” She waves me toward the door. “But call me later. I want to know what that snake is up to.”
I kiss her cheek and rush out of the restaurant. My heart pounds against my ribs the entire way to my car, and by the time I slide behind the wheel, my hands are trembling against the steering wheel.
I make it back to the office quickly enough, but before I head upstairs into whatever shit storm Eamon is about to unleash, I pull out my phone and open my emails.
My shoulders slump against the seat as I stare at the email from Henderson's CEO on my screen. The words blur together as I read them for the third time. “Shifting priorities.” “Better alignment with Blackwell's approach.” “Perhaps we can revisit partnership in the future.”
Corporate speak for “you dropped the ball, and we found someone who wouldn't.”
Six months of negotiations. Countless meetings where I flew across the country to sit in their boardroom and convince them we were the right fit. A deal worth forty-million dollars that would have cemented Colonna Consulting's position as the top strategy firm on the East Coast.
Gone. Poof. Just like that.
My chest aches with a burn of frustration. This is my company. My baby. The thing I built from nothing when everyone told me I'd never make it without my father's money or his connections. I proved them all wrong and built an empire with my bare hands.
And now I'm watching it slip through my fingers because I can't be in two places at once.
I press my fingertips to the sides of my head and take a few deep breaths. In through my nose, out through my mouth. The technique Lochlan taught me after the attack on Moretti's floats through my mind, and I cling to it like a lifeline.
When my heart finally slows, I get out of my car and head up to my office. I step out of the elevator and walk through reception. Jayne pops up out of her chair when she sees me.
“Adriana, Mr. Molloy is waiting in the conference room. He's been here for almost an hour and he's getting... impatient.”
I give a tight nod. “Okay, send him in, please.”
Jayne disappears and a moment later, Eamon Molloy strolls into my office like he owns every square inch of it. He's wearing a charcoal suit that probably costs more than most people's monthly rent, and his silver hair is slicked back. Everything about him screams control and power, but there’s also a danger that lurks beneath his polished exterior.
I look up from my computer but don't stand up to greet him. This isn’t a social call.
“Adriana.” He settles into the chair across from my desk without waiting for an invitation, crossing one leg over the otherlike we're old friends catching up over coffee. Like he doesn’t know… or care… that I think he’s a piece of shit who uses people as pawns to get what he wants. “Thank you for making time for me.”
“I wasn’t aware I had much choice, since you took over my conference room.” I fold my hands on my desk and meet his gaze with a steely one of my own. “What do you want, Eamon?”
“Direct. I've always appreciated that about you.” He adjusts his cufflinks, taking his sweet time before responding. “Frankly, I'm here because I'm concerned.”
“Concerned about what exactly?”
“About you. About this situation you've found yourself juggling.” He waves a hand vaguely around my office. “Running a consulting empire while simultaneously managing a crime family is no small feat. I wanted to check in and see how you're holding up.”
“I'm holding up just fine.”As if I’d ever admit anything to the contrary to you.
“Really?” His eyebrows lift in a way that makes my skin prickle like suckling leeches are slithering all over it. “Because I just heard you lost the Henderson account. Forty-million dollars, wasn't it? That's quite a significant blow for your company. Imagine what the industry will have to say when it becomes public.”
My jaw tightens so hard my teeth ache. How the hell does he know about that already? The email came in less than an hour ago. But slimy bastards like Eamon Molloy always know things before everyone else. Knowledge is power and leverage, and Eamon loves both.
“Business deals fall through sometimes,” I say, careful to keep my voice neutral. “It happens to everyone.”
“Of course it does. But it seems to be happening a lot more frequently since you took on your father's responsibilities, don’t you think? You have disgruntled clients, too, from what I’ve heard.” He pauses, letting that observation sink in like poisonseeping into a wound. “Wolfe also intercepted some Russian communications this morning. They're planning another move against your family's interests. Soon.”
