Page 57 of Dragon Her Heels

In retrospect, working for the Destroyer of Georgia counted as an improvement.

I hadn’t been eaten, I was paid well, and I was treated with respect.

Things could be far worse.

My femur could have been stripped of meat, broken, and used as a toothpick.

Lucifer stared at me, shook his head, and rolled his eyes.

I couldn’t blame him for his reaction, although I felt justified for my opinion.

“You would have to at least match the Destroyer of Georgia’s opening offer, which is substantial.” Lucifer went on to relay the basic offer I’d been given along with the working conditions.

Mr. Mortani spluttered. “That is ridiculous! She is not worth nearly that much.”

Of course. I suspected the numbers pitched had been from desperation and that they would do their best to demote me and lower my pay. I wrinkled my nose at the commentary, but as Lucifer had asked me to stay quiet, I obeyed.

“She is worth far more than that. If you would like her to train a new secretary for you, that will not be an issue. I am certain we can come to a private arrangement regarding additional compensation for her work. She gave you sufficient warning about her departure for her to train and acclimate a replacement to handle her responsibilities. It is not her fault that there were issues with her replacement.”

“Her replacement committed suicide.”

I tensed, and all four of my kittens issued soft hisses. Fortunately, it did not seem that Mr. Mortani heard the animals.

While I’d been available to train a replacement, I’d been told one of the other secretaries would be taking over my responsibilities. Had someone actually committed suicide? Why?

I could understand the why; I’d endured some dark times over the years, but I had refused to give up. Having survived a brush with death, I shied away from even the thought of suicide. The instant Lucifer had expressed concerns about Ashley, I’d taken it seriously.

Once upon a time, I’d heard a psychiatrist comment about how sometimes, all someone needed was someone else reaching out and offering a stick. I’d questioned the stick part of things. What use could a stick be?

Then I’d realized the stick could be anything, be it holding a door, acknowledging someone, wishing somebody a good day, or even going over to somebody’s house with a few extra eggs. Company on an errand hadn’t been on my radar before, but it would become a tool in my arsenal down the road.

Someone had died, and it wasn’t just a someone.

It was someone I had known and worked with.

“I see. Please send the pertinent details of what you need in a secretary to my phone. I’ll be blunt with you, Mr. Mortani. You can’t afford Miss Culling, not now. She has moved on from your business, and she has been given the opportunities she has earned and deserved. I recommend you accept my offer of assistance on training a replacement secretary. It is a good one, and it won’t cost you anything more than fair wages for the future employee and compensating Miss Culling. Do think about it. I do have an important meeting I must attend to, but I will be keeping an eye out for your texts with your requirements.”

Lucifer hung up.

I mustered my courage and asked, “Who died?”

“Her name was Belinda.”

My heart hurt at the answer, and I put some serious thought into crying over the sweet woman. She’d been a few years older than me, had worked hard, and had handled secretarial tasks for a small section of the marketing department. “That’s terrible.”

“Her soul is at peace,” Lucifer informed me.

That was something. Of everyone I had worked with there, Belinda deserved peace, but she had deserved peace in life, not in death. “Was she driven to suicide?”

“She had been, yes.”

Somehow, I would make those motherfuckers pay. “Was Mr. Mortani involved?”

“Yes, as were most of the upper management at the company. Upon their mortal expiration, I’ll have to open a raffle for them so the ladies can correct them in the dungeon. It will be brutal, especially if they find out the full extent of their crimes.”

I pushed my chair away from my desk enough I could scoop my little white kitten up, and I put her on my shoulder to cuddle with her. “Perhaps you could make a suggestion to Mr. Durant to make himself useful and investigate the company. With different management, I’m sure it would be quite profitable for him. And little appeals more to me right now than becoming the downfall of that lot. Belinda deserved better.”

“She did. She had no next of kin, so there has not been a funeral for her yet. Her body is still at the morgue.”