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The ride across town isn’t too long, and I spend most of it just staring out the window and pondering ways this entire thing could go sideways.
What if the mole is in attendance? What if the person who wishes me dead is there? What if I say something stupid or act dumb and embarrass myself or my men? What if I don’t actually have what it takes to fit into their world?
What if Winnie was right after all and I can’t cut it?
Maybe I could ask her for advice on the situation? I'm sure she's handled numerous death threats in her tenure as council seat holder and wife to the prior boss of the organization.
But telling her would be giving her details that the men don't want to be shared with just anyone. And if she found out that Dominic wasn't able to handle things on his own, wouldn't that bring up questions as to whether or not he was proficient for the job?
No, we have to deal with this on our own and prove that Dominic has what it takes to run this business.
Magnus pulls us into a secured parking garage and finds a spot near the exit. “Wait here,” he tells me and then hops out. Simon follows him and the two of them linger outside for about a minute then approach my door.
Simon opens it and holds out his hand. “My love.”
I gratefully take it and step onto the pavement. “Is the coast clear?”
“For now, yes.” Magnus shifts his gaze across the open area.
“I was just being a smart ass,” I tell him.
Do they often have people trying to shoot them before they can even get inside?
“I knew that.” Magnus scoffs. He keeps his eyes peeled as we walk into the space and through a keycode entry door.
His guard lowers slightly when we go inside, but he remains aware of his surroundings.
Magnus is usually the most careless of my men; he’s always joking and pissing Dom off by ordering endless take-out to the house. He's the one to lighten the mood if things get tense and be the voice of reason when Dom and Coen are being hard-headed assholes. This Magnus though, is more on edge, like a switch has been flipped and he's now in work mode.
It’s kind of hot.
Which isn't really something I thought could be possible. Magnus Bryant is already supermodel bad boy sexy as fuck, but this is something else entirely.
And with Simon trailing behind me and Magnus in front, I’m surrounded by seductive testosterone.
My heels click across the floor as we make our way through the building. Voices carry down the hallway until we finally reach them.
People hush their chatter and poke their heads around cubicles to catch a glance of us as we walk by. Magnus doesn’t seem to acknowledge them, but I can’t be too sure from this angle.
The few people I do make eye contact with quickly look away, like they might burst into flames if they stare at me too long.
I follow Magnus down another hall and spot Coen and Dom waiting for us inside a large room with massive windows. Their lips move but I can’t hear a word of what they’re saying.
Coen flits his attention at me and forces it back on Dom the same way the others did. At least I know whyhe’signoring me.
I would ignore me too if I was a giant asshole.
A large conference table sits in the center of the room with various cabinets lining the walls. In the far corner is a small kitchen suite. Everything is very sterile and tidy, and if I had to guess, Dom had some say in designing the space. He's all about quality and efficiency and this is very much his brand of control freak.
The door clicks shut behind Simon, sealing the five of us in here.
"Soundproof," Magnus tells me and strolls over to pull out a chair at the head of the table. "Princess."
I take another glance around before walking over and sitting in the seat. “What do those people do out there?” I tip my head toward the cubicles of random folks.
“Mostly accounting, financial things. Investments. Business operations stuff.”
“Interesting.” I settle in and adjust my blazer. The thing sticks to my bandage but I manage to tug it free. I wouldn’t have worn it at all but the guys thought it best that I conceal the gunshot wound as to not cause anyone any more reason to question why the heck I’m here.
