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At least she's legal. I swear the girl doesn't look to be more than a teenager, and I should feel like a pervert for being so attracted to her, but fuck it. I open up the latest file that my PI sent me, my computer being the only thing I didn’t sling off my desk in my frustration.

I've been doing this every day for the past week. At the end of every workday, I’ll pull up the latest file on Faith and torture myself with the candid shots my PI snapped of her while monitoring her for me.

There's one of her in the cafeteria with her friends. There's one of her walking down the hallway of the Econ building.

My grip tightens on the mouse when I open up the next photo, and it's one of her with her head falling back, laughing as some college fuckboy says something to her.

My grip is so tight on the mouse, I'm surprised I don't bust the fucker. I saw no evidence of her having a boyfriend, but of course, these young fucking college dudes are hitting on her. They'd have to be blind and dumb not to. She's an angel. She's beautiful.

My jaw tightens as I stare at the blonde-headed fucker. He looks like the typical all-American golden boy. I'd bet my left nut he's a football player.

My eyes hone back in on Faith, and my chest tightens at how beautiful she looks with her hair tumbling over her shoulders as she laughs. She’s wearing an oversized shirt and a pair of leggings, but she still somehow manages to look classy.

I study her mouth that’s stretched into a wide smile as she laughs. Her pretty eyes are crinkled up, but I can still see flecks of hazel peeking through them.

Before I can even register what I'm doing, I fling the mouse across the room just as Matt opens the door.

“Whoa!” He ducks, barely missing it. The mouse hits the wall behind him and thuds onto the ground in the hallway. “What the fuck has gotten into you? This is extreme—even for you.”

Instead of answering him, I glower at him. “What the fuck do you want?”

He raises an eyebrow and for once keeps his mouth shut, perhaps sensing that I'm in no mood for his fuckery today.

“I thought I'd run a list of things by you,” he says cautiously as he hands me a piece of paper.

My frown deepens when I look down at the list. “What is all this shit?” I gesture to it.

“Well, seeing as how the other firms are doing something to give back to the community, I thought it would be good PR for us to do the same.”

“I just hosted that ridiculous fucking Halloween party. Since when is that not good enough?” I growl.

Matt drums his fingers on the side of my desk. My eyes flick to his drumming fingers and darken.

His fingers still mid-drum when his eyes meet my pupils. He knows how much I hate that shit, and today is not the day to push me.

“I'm just saying, Monroe is stepping up his game, so we should probably do the same.”

“What's he doing?” I ask from between gritted teeth. Monroe is my biggest competition, and the exact opposite of me in every way. Whereas I try my best to stay out of the limelight, he basks in it. Whereas they call me the devil, they revere him like he’s a god. He’s another one of those golden boys with his classic good looks and blonde hair.

“Well, last I heard, he's hosting an internship for the college, giving one lucky student a chance of a lifetime.”

He shoots me a look, and I'm already shaking my head adamantly. “No fucking way. There's no way I want some fucking college kid shadowing my every footstep. It’s not going to happen, Matt.”

Matt shrugs casually before he adds, “Look, I know you hate to people, but it might not be as bad as you imagine. A little birdy tells me the student who Monroe is thinking about extending the offer to is the best in her class.”

I lean back in my chair and scowl at Matt again. “And why do I give a fuck about this?”

Matt shrugs again before he drops a name that has me going completely still in my seat. “I don't know. Just forget I said anything. You’re right. It’s not your type of thing. It's just some girl named Faith Ellison. She’d probably be in your way.”

Matt casts a knowing glance my way and I steel my jaw. Matt has always been a meddling motherfucker, and it shouldn't surprise me he knows about my fixation with the girl—especially since he witnessed me talking to her at the fucking Halloween party.

I'm simmering with rage at the thought of her working closely with Monroe, though, so much so that I don't even have time to focus on being pissed off at Matt.

“Get out,” I growl at him.

Matt wisely turns on his heel to obey me without question as I slide the papers he dropped off to me across the desk and start going over them.

My heart hammers against my ribcage as I flex my fingers into fists over and over again. What is it about this girl that gets me so worked up? I don't know but I know one motherfucking thing.

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