“Why the hell would I know that, Cal? He’s a target, not my buddy.”
“Just wondering,” he mumbles. “Do you know any of hisactualfriends?”
My eyes widen, shifting to stare at the man next to Landon. “Yes, actually. Julian Walsh.”
“Julian Walsh,” Calum mutters, most likely to himself, as he types away.
Our organization has an extensive database. It’s kind of a large community, one full of all sorts of powerful people. And I don’t just mean rich.
“Okay,” my colleague suddenly says. “Landon Presley, twenty-two years old. Definitely comes from daddy’s money—thePresley empire in California. He’s got an older sister and is set to start working for his father any day now. Just sent you a pic.”
I remove the work phone from my face, opening his new email. And yeah, that’s Landon, alright. With his expressive eyes and charming grin.
“That’s him,” I confirm, pressing the phone back to my ear.
“Want me to send out a repressor?” Calum asks, and as I stare at Landon from a distance, I make my decision.
“I’ll handle it. I need a plane ticket and a hotel close to his house. Send me the details.”
“Are you sure?” he asks. “You’re working now, aren’t you? Someone else can handle this.”
“No,” I insist, unable to tear my eyes from the window. “I’ll be the one to take him down. No one else.”
“Roger that. I’ll send the details later.”
And then the call ends, and I remain where I am, absolutely frozen.
Time to observe Landon on his own turf, then devour him whole.
Landon
3
I HAVE HAD TWOmen circling my mind since New Year’s. And no, it’s notrarefor me to have several men on me or around me at once, but I am new to obsessively thinking about more than one.
Julian? He’s always there. A constant vision behind my eyes; a forever reminder of how wonderful, or how beautiful, he is. Only now, it’s his face as I told him I’d give him up like he wants me to, right before I left Chastain Castle. His enamored eyes as he stared at Atlas, one of his boss’s sons, while we stood over the Pacific, and the young, pretty thing watched the waves.
Now, as Julian circles my mind, it triggers pain. It is a constant reminder that I will never have what I’ve craved since I was fifteen. Not without manipulating him, forcing him.
Speaking of… that brings me to theotherman circling my brain. Nathaniel Barfred. The man who treated me like I was nothing, like I was a threat to be disposed of. He seems convinced that I’m that kind of person—the kind who would brainwash someone into loving me.
If I were, wouldn’t I have Julian?
Exactly. All I do is mundane things: requesting my tea how I’d like it, getting more than one drink at a limited bar, convincing some asshole to get out of the parking spot I was eyeing.
And I know someday I’ll be required to use it at my father’s business. Movie investments are tricky, and we’ve stayed successful thanks to my uncle, who can always dig the truth out of someone.
But I’m not amonster. I’m not sure why Nathaniel thinks that.
I find him righteous and conceited—this Nathaniel Barfred. Sure, he has the looks to back up his ridiculous demeanor, but the personality? Yeah, I don’t think so.
My brief interaction with him told me two things: I’m oddly attracted to him, and I hope to god I never have to see his stupid, smug face again. Something tells me he’s simply the kind of man you either love or hate.
And me? Hate. And if not yet, it’s soon to develop. There’s an ever-changing loathing that is building inside of me the longer it exists in my mind.
At least I can guarantee my distance from him now that I’m back in California.
Getting on the plane last night was sad. Between Susie crying because she misses Julian and my heart being broken over watching him ogle Atlas, giving him soft smiles, it was a devastating flight.
