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“Gus,” Gia says, giving him a chastising frown. “You know how I feel about smoking in the house.”
“And yet, it’s my house.” He winks at me. “You wouldn’t say so.”
Gia shuts her mouth at that.
Tipping the ash on the carpet, Gus drawls, “I’ll finish my cigar on the terrace before my lovely wife catches lung cancer.”
Elliot pushes his dessert plate away and gets to his feet. “I think I’ll join you. Oh, and I’ll have that coffee you mentioned, Gia.”
She gives him a tight smile. “Sure. How about you, Leon?”
“No coffee for me. Thank you for the dinner, Gia. It was delicious. Please tell Violet I say good night and that I hope she feels better.”
“Thanks,” she says. “She’ll appreciate your concern. I’ll walk you out.”
“Elliot can walk me to my car,” I say. “Seeing that we’ll be family soon, we may as well get the male bonding over with.” I add in a mocking tone, “That’s to say if you don’t mind, Elliot.”
His grin remains intact. “Of course not.”
I incline my head in Gus’s direction. “Enjoy the rest of the weekend.”
Already making his way to the terrace, he raises a hand in greeting. “See you on Monday, son.”
Gia mutters something that sounds like, “Good night,” and excuses herself to make coffee.
I go outside and wait for Elliot to catch up. We walk in silence.
When we get to my car, he says, “I take it you have something to say to me.”
“Indeed.”
Gripping his nape, I punch my fist into his stomach. He doubles over, wheezing as he hugs his middle.
I drag him upright by the back of his collar and put my mouth next to his ear. “That’s for the jabs you threw at Violet. Disrespect her again, and you’ll walk away with more than a bruise. Next time, I’ll break your ribs.”
I drop him and get into my car, leaving him bent over and grappling for air.
CHAPTER 16
Violet
On Monday evening as my shift starts at the office, my stomach roils with nausea. The USB key Elliot had given me burns a hole in the back pocket of my jeans. I’m gathering the cleaning products and loading the trolley when my stepbrother walks into the kitchen.
“When are you going to do it?” he asks, leaning on the cupboard.
“When I can figure out how.” My tone is bitter. “Did you know?”
“About your upcoming nuptials? My father mentioned it on Saturday at golf.”
“You could’ve told me.”
“And spoil the fun? Nah, the look on your face when Dad told you was priceless.”
“You’re a bastard,” I hiss.
“Look at it like this. Leon obviously likes you. You can always use your body to get his password.”
“I’m not turning myself into a whore for you.”
“No.” A sly smile transforms his features. “That’s your mother’s style.”
Clenching my hands into fists, I say, “Fuck you.”
He pushes off the cupboard. “Your mother will be fucked if those photos fall into the wrong hands, so you better get me that program before the year-end party.”
“You’re out of your mind. That’s in eight days.”
“That should give you enough time to come up with a plan.”
“You’re asking me to do the impossible,” I exclaim.
“If I were you, I’d just go along with the engagement and fuck him as soon as the chance presents itself. They say men give up all kinds of secrets during pillow talk.”
“That’ll never happen. You can forget about it.”
“It was just a suggestion.” He shrugs. “You’re clever. You’ll figure out a way.”
“Why do you want the program?” I ask. “What are you going to do with it?”
“Industrial espionage,” he says before turning for the door.
“I want the originals and all the copies,” I say to his back.
He chuckles. “The originals stay with me.”
“That’s not how deals work.”
He pauses in the doorframe. “It’ll work how I say it will. Just get the program, Violet.” Not sparing me another look, he walks away.
I take a moment to gather myself, wiping perspiration from my brow. This is a major clusterfuck. My stepfather is forcing me into marriage with a man I don’t want, and my stepbrother is blackmailing me into stealing from my future, unwanted husband. I don’t know what Leon will do if he catches me, but what will happen to my mom if I don’t succeed is infinitely worse. I’ll just have to make sure Leon never finds out I stole his program. Elliot must want the program to figure out what Leon is working on so he can write something similar. As an artist who often has my sketches copied, no one hates plagiarism more than me, but what choice do I have?
When I push the trolley onto the floor, I’m overly aware of the man sitting in the last row at the back. It was easier when I could pretend I didn’t notice him, but I can’t ignore the way he stares. His dark eyes burn holes in the back of my head as I plug in the vacuum and maneuver the nozzle over the floor.
