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Don’t even think about stopping this.
The meeting has only just finished so there’s every chance Edier is still in the building, or at least in the process of leaving.
“Come on, stupid elevator,” I hiss. “Don’t fail me now.”
Once I start trying to rationalize my hurt, I know I’ll talk myself out of this, and then I’ll be even angrier atmethan I am at him.
Spilling out of the carriage into the large glass-fronted lobby, I spot him straight away. He’s standing in front of the revolving doors with his back turned, dominating the light and space like the big dark raincloud that he is. He’s chatting to Gabrio and Sam, and some other men I don’t know who look officious and business-like and very, very smug.
He’s still the tallest and most beautiful.And the most noxious. For the first time, I see his black Brioni three-piece suit for what it really is: a reflection of his wicked, twisted, conniving soul.
After that, I don’t think. I just do.
“Edier Grayson,” I say loudly, walking up to him on shaking legs. “How fuckingdareyou!”
He turns as my voice echoes, as does everyone else in the vicinity, but my focus is solely on him. There’s barely a flicker of recognition when he sees me advancing, and that just makes me even more mad.
I go to slap him hard across his handsome smirking face, but his reflexes are much faster than mine. He catches my wrist before it’s even grazing his cheekbone, and I gasp in pain. He doesn’t let go of me, but he loosens his grip on my swollen wrist, glaring over my shoulder at my advancing bodyguards and motioning for them to ‘stand down’.
“My, my, we reallyhavegraduated with our bad language skills,” he drawls, swinging his dark gaze back to me. “Why don’t you say ‘fuck’ like that again, and give my right hand something to think about later?”
“You’re disgusting,” I counter, wrenching my wrist free. “Who the hell do you think you are buying the paper I work for? And why didn’t you talk him out of it?” I say, rounding on Sam. “I fully expect Edier to crap all over everything good in my life, but not you.”
Sam just throws his hands up in the air and tactfully backs away. “This is between you and him, Ella. I’m not getting involved.”
“I never took you for a spineless coward. You’ve been spending too much time in corrosively bad company… Well?” I turn my fury back to Edier who has his head tilted while he considers my outfit of blue denim skinnies, nude ballet pumps and smart gray jacket.
“Well, what?” He continues to appraise me in that cold, calculated way that makes me feel naked and vulnerable. “At least you managed to keep your coffee in the cup today.”
My jaw drops. “That’s all you have to say to me?”
“I’ll be insisting on a much smarter appearance ofallmy new employees in future…as well as other things,” he adds ominously.
“Does that include Ms. De Vil? I’m not sure that wearing the skinned furs of baby animals is very woke these days. Tell me, how many cows died to make her leather pantsuit again? Was the color red some kind of an homage?”
We both ignore Sam’s dirty laugh at this.
“Careful, Ella,” he murmurs, taking a step closer. “That almost sounds like jealously talking.”
“I’d rather screw her than you.”
“I’ll let her know you’re available. My lawyer fucks women, not men.”
I despise the sense of relief that washes over me at this.
She’s not his girlfriend.
He doesn’t like glacial superiority, after all.
Why?” I say, my anger losing steam. “This job is my sanctuary. The one thing that’smine, away from my family, my health and…andyou.” I watch his eyes flare with agony for the briefest of seconds before they’re back to being black and brutal again.
“I’d prefer not to talk about my business in the lobby of a newspaper,” he says coolly. “I’m reliably informed that these people aren’t the most discreet, whether I own them now or not.”
“But you’re happy to talk to a reporter?”
“Junior reporter,” he replies, taunting my fragile self-worth again. “But you’re a cartel princess first, or did you forget that,Mi Cielo? I’m not sure your Editor-in-Chief is fully aware. Remind me to mention it in our content meetings the next time you step out of line.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I gasp, unsure if he's bluffing or not. “My father would kill you if you exposed me like that.”
