Touching him aside,kissinghim would be a nightmare.
His eyes narrow, and he gets closer.
Instinctively, I shrink, glancing at my crystal heart,hopinghe won’t soil her again.
“I said,Azalea,” he murmurs.
“Yes, sir?” I whisper.
Straightening, he crosses his arms and peers down at me. “What’s wrong?”
What’s…wrong?
Malcolm has never asked me that before—probably because he’s normally the one causing everything wrong in my life. Presently, it’s no different, but considering I just got here and he’s not done anything to me yet, I bet he’s annoyed, thinking someone or something else has ruffled me first.
He strikes me very deeply as a man who is possessive with his toys.
Most monsters usually are.
“Nothing, sir.” I find the space to breathe. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.”
A low hum rumbles in his chest, then he doesn’t even bother with a command. He merely flicks a finger at me, indicating I stand.
So I do.
“Come,” he states, so simply, and turns for his office.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a moment to fortify myself, then I follow him…into the abyss.
Despite the full wall of windows and the sunshine peeking through the clouds beyond them, everything in Malcolm’s office gulps light. Black as ebony, the space feels like it’s trying to swallow me when he forgoes his desk to pass a water feature beside the seating area closer to the windows. Anyone who doesn’t know better would assume the burbling water skating down the wall to trickle into the shallow pool below is oil. Nothing exists in that water. Nothing can. And just seeing it compels me to check my clothes for stains.
While I’m making certain no dark spots are on my skirt, Malcolm reclines on one of the velvet dark sofas and tosses his arm over the backrest. “You’ve been working for me for a little while now, haven’t you?” he asks.
Once I’m sure I’m clean, I fold my gloved hands against my skirt and dare to look up. “Yes, sir. Two years.” Two horrible years.
“Do you enjoy it?”
Enjoyit? It’s a job. You don’tenjoyjobs.
I say, “It’s the best job I’ve ever had,” because that much is true. Here, I have my own space away from people. Here, everything is clean. Even this place. Because despite the fact I find Malcolm’s office unbelievably unsettling—and despite thefact I’m convinced itmustbe dirty since black can hide so much—at a glance, it’s perfectly clean and flawlessly orderly.
The entire building—from the lobby to this penthouse office—maintains flawless order and perfect cleanliness.
Furthermore, at this job, I’m not sharing a break room with people who might have touched my food. Instead, I have a personal fridge where I keep my lunch right behind my desk, and in the breakroom, there isn’t a gamma-ray known as a microwave. There’s an oven with a stove. And I’m given enough time on my break to heat what I bring properly and thoroughly.
Not to mention, all that doesn’t even scratch the surface of pay or benefits, which are both astronomical.
No matter how much I hate this man, there’s no question that this job is the best I’ve ever had.
Bending his elbow, he brushes his thumb over his lips, and I try not to think of where his hand has been or how many germs he’s just put near his mouth. “Sit.”
Carefully, I make my way to the other couch and wonderwhatis going on. Maybe he knows I accepted a job to kill him. Maybe he’s going to make me pay before I’m arrested…and sent to…prison.
Even assuming I believe that Junction’s corporation has any power, there’s no way they’d be able to intercept and intervene if Malcolm is already personally on to me. Not only that, I’ve not been able to so much as attempt one murder yet. They have no reason to bother wasting the time or resources to protect me.
A lump settles in my throat as the consequences for failure rear in the back of my head—spinning endlessly. If this organization that I have zero reason to trustcan’tactually protect me, my life is going to turn bleak.
I need to commit to this job.
