Page 76 of Her Wicked Plan

He swallows hard. “Edith told me you needed to talk. Why don’t you take a seat?”

Without speaking, I walk over to the chair I normally sit in and make myself comfortable. “I did tell her that. There’s just a lot that’s happened. That’s going on in my head that I need to let out.”

“Is this about the fight you got into the other day?” he doesn’t hesitate to ask, sounding almost agitated about the incident.

Although, I was hoping he would have brought it up when we saw each other in the hall. The black eye was hard to miss.

“Was kind of hoping you would hear about that.” I flash him a flirty smile as I toy with my fingers. They fumble over one another before I blindly start picking at my thumb.

“Why? Did you only get in a fight to get my attention?” Leo asks, casually resting his arms on the desktop.

“Maybe.” I shrug, staring down at my hands. If I pick at my skin anymore, then I’ll bleed. “Honestly, I was pissed that you canceled on me, so I took my anger out on someone else. Granted, she was the one who started it, but still.”

“Why did you keep the fight going? Why not just walk away?” Reaching his hand over, Leo picks up the pen to take notes.

Raising my eyes, I stare directly at him. “I never walk away from a fight, Leo. That makes me look like a weak little bitch.” I scoff at the belief he has that I could simply not engage in a fight. “You and I both know that’s not who I am.”

“This is true,” he agrees, and then points to the bruise on my face using the tip of his pen. “She got you good, though.”

“This?” I gesture to the mark, letting out a laugh. “This is nothing! Did you even see what I did to her? She has to stay in the hospital until all her injuries heal.”

“Why did she start the fight?” He moves on to the next question.

“Because that’s what the girls in here do. They get bored and try to assert dominance.” I tilt my body forward in the seat, my elbows hitting my knees, causing my arms to press my breasts together. “They always try with me. I’m not sure why since I always fuck them up, but other girls keep coming back for more. They believe a second chance will earn them a win. I mean, really, Leo, when will they learn?”

I don’t miss the way his eyes drift down to my cleavage as I finish up my rant. It’s a fast movement before he focuses his attention on the notepad. “You’re saying that you hold dominance over every patient in here? That they are trying to take that away from you?”

“They can try all they want.” I smirk.

“And how did you get that?” He gestures to the scar underneath the left strap of my tank top.

“I was helping in the kitchen one day when a patient tried to stab me,” I explain what happened. “Dr. Bennett was so angry that this certain patient had a knife unsupervised. Pretty sure he had the cook fired, which sucks. She made the best cookies.”

“Did you fight back?”

“Ripped the knife from her hand and stabbed her in the stomach.” I smile proudly.

“Veronica, you have been here for two years. You’ve gotten into eighteen fights.” He enlightens me as if I didn’t already know my track record.

“Only eighteen?” I play dumb. “Man, I feel like it’s been way more than that. Although this new one I just got in was the first since the knife incident. Not counting me threatening Eliza.” I’m still working on that acquaintanceship. “After the fight in the kitchen, I had to spend a whole week in solitary confinement. That fucking sucked.”

“Did you learn your lesson after that fight?” His pen moves easily across the paper.

“Kind of.” I bite my bottom lip. “Might need someone to teach me another lesson about it. Then maybe it would really stick this time.”

He puts his pen down on the notepad, clasping his hands together, his eyes meet mine. “Are you insinuating that you want me to be the one to teach you that lesson?”

“I think if you simply told me not to get in a fight, I’d listen.” I push myself out of the seat and place my palms on the desk, peering down at him. “I would do anything you tell me to do, Leo.”

His cheeks flush a bright red—it’s becoming my new favorite color. His skin might be burning brightly, but his dark eyes narrow in on me. Silence overcomes the room, and I think I almost have him right where I want him.

I didn’t beg Edith to bring me to his office to “talk.” No, I needed to see him so he could finish what he started the other day. My fingers weren't enough to fulfill my needs.

My hands leave the desk as I walk around it, the tip of my finger trailing along the smooth surface.

“My turn to ask you a question,” I propose when I’m standing next to him. “Is that okay, sir?”

“That depends on what question you want to ask.” He turns his chair to face me. His hands grip the arms of his chair, fingers digging into the leather as if he is holding himself back.