Page 33 of Claimed By the Ruthless King

“How is my afternoon looking, Miss Bennett? Can I cram in some alone time with you? I would quite like to fuck you in this little black dress.”

“Um,” I stutter, hands fumbling over the pages in my notebook as I consult my notes. “2 p.m. could work, but only for twenty minutes.”

“Brilliant. We’ll lock in for 2 p.m.”

“Like I said, you only have twenty minutes to⁠—”

“I can make you come in two,” says Mr. Moretti, his Oxford shoes clacking against the laminate flooring as he heads out, briefcase in hand, tie straighter than my vision as I picture myself bent over his desk—my favorite place to take a seat in this place. “Make sure you come wearing the same pair of panties, Miss Bennett. I like it when you’re dirty,” he says, opening the door. “Goodbye.”

My heart rattles as the door closes. Everything’s distorted. I see two of everything. Two reflections in the glass as I peer through the window, two Statue of Liberties. Turning around, I hope to find two documents in the cabinet, but my luck has run out.

Ignoring the impossible desire forming in my belly, I use my time wisely and get to work, searching through desk drawers, looking high and low for that goddamn document.

I’m not going crazy. I know what I read yesterday afternoon. The zip code linking to that Queens self-storage complex has to lead me somewhere.

I scratch my head after ten minutes of nothing, deciding I need coffee and some support from Sapphire. Perhaps I should tell her about the Crows, to have someone other than my aunt to talk to about this. Viv is mellow, away with the fairies most of the time. The sun could be falling from the sky, and she would still find a way to speak positively about the end of mankind.

Her positivity about the Crows being ‘no big deal’ is not helping right now.

I lock up the office and slide into the elevator, my heels clopping on the polished marble floor as I leave the building.

The summer heat whacks me in the face the second I step outside. Fanning my face, I cross the street and pile straight into the coffee shop, joining the line.

“I swear you know my schedule better than I do,” teases Sapphire when I get to the front. “How did you know I was working?”

“I do write schedules for a living,” I say. “And I do come to this place almost every day.”

“Bad timing,” says Sapphire. “You caught the morning rush.” After muttering something to her co-worker, she unties the apron and steps aside, gesturing for me to take a seat.

“And just like that you’re relieved of your coffee-making duties.”

“Angela owes me some hours,” says Sapphire, pulling up a chair at one of the tables, sitting down like we’re commencing an important meeting.

“Am I missing something?”

“I don’t know, you tell me, Miss Bennett.”

I roll my eyes. “Please. You know I hate it when you call me that.”

“But when Mr. Moretti addresses you that way, you’re orgasming on the spot.”

I decide to take a seat opposite Sapphire, narrowing my eyes down on her. “What is this? An intervention?” I stick my elbow on the table, resting my chin on my hand. “I know I could totally screw this up for myself, ending up unemployed, not hirable and one hundred percent fucked for life, but the sex is otherworldly, Saph.”

“Whatever happens in that office is your business, but you should know all the facts first so you can make an informed decision, moving forward.”

“An informed decision about what?”

Sapphire glances over her shoulder before lowering her voice, facing me. “I met Salvatore Moretti at the hospital earlier, asking where he could find the main wards.”

“How generous of him,” I say, taking my first sip of coffee. “Wanting to pay his victim a visit after beating the shit out of him.”

“I know, right?” says Sapphire. “Paying the guy you beat up in a private hospital is one thing, but in a public hospital where eyes and ears are everywhere? Something isn’t adding up.”

“Unless he didn’t beat the guy up…”

Sapphire looks at me like I’m speaking a different language. “What other explanation would there be? You walked into his office and a man was bleeding.”

“Severely bleeding.”