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“As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not interested.”
“So you’ve said, but likeI’vesaid, I’m more than sure you’ll change your mind,” Riley assures me. He pulls out a drawer on his end of the desk, rummages inside it, and withdraws a file that he tosses onto the polished surface alongside the newspaper. “I may not have had much luck enticing many members of the royal family to join my establishment… but I am acquainted with a few individuals whom you might be interested inbefriending.”
He flicks open the file and drags his finger along the neat stack of documents contained within, spreading out a series of profiles. I recognize most of the names at a glance—mainly the corporations they represent. Oil. Industry. Politics. Riley has certainly been lucrative in collecting new lives to exploit for his own gain.
“I took the liberty of investigating Atelier Noir’s interactions with a few of these associates,” he says, unashamed of that very fact. “It stands to reason that you might be interested in smoothing the path toward a closer relationship.”
I make my expression steel, refusing to give the bastard even an ounce of emotion to feed off. “And what would you get out of it, Riley? Though, I’m sure you can’t wait to get your hands on whoever might sign inmyguestbook.”
Riley shrugs. “The truth is that we both could benefit should we merge the two clubs. I’m merely offering a truce.”
“A truce,” I scoff. “And what exactly would this little truce entail? Two separate businesses, each run by two different presidents? That doesn’t seem to be a very cohesive form of management.”
“Oh?” Riley raises a dark eyebrow. “Naturally, there would be onlyonepresident…”
I scoff. “And let me guess. You already have a man in mind for the job.”
“To be honest, Bellamy, I didn’t think you wouldwantthe position, given the lengths you’ve gone to minimize the connection to your own club.” He strokes his chin thoughtfully.
“Unlike you, I don’t feel the need to exploit my own power for personal gain.”
That insult manages to strike where all the previous attacks missed. He sits straighter, and his palms flatten against the surface of his desk. “Is that so? You don’t feel the need, or you simply don’t have thenerve?” He chuckles when I don’t answer and leans back against his chair. The thumb and forefinger of his left hand hook the corner of his lapel, smoothing the sharp edge. “Evelyn King,” he states, launching into a fresh line of attack. This one slips through my defenses—I can’t disguise the clenching of my jaw. Damn it. I wasn’t counting on the bastard to fixate on her so soon.
“What about her?”
“I will admit that I was perplexed by her at first,” he says, lacing his fingers together again. I’m not naive enough not to suspect that he hasn’t kept an eye on me ever since I arrived in New York. Digging into Evelyn King’s background would have been his first task. “She’s young,” Riley adds. “She’s inexperienced. At first, I thought you kept her around for more than just business, but she isn’t your type.” He strokes his jaw with the pad of his thumb as if processing his own suspicions. “And then it struck me…”
I have to pry my gritted teeth apart to find enough leverage to speak. “What did?”
“That’swhy you chose her. She’s not a threat. She’s untainted by any other prominent boss or company. There’s no risk when the moment comes that you throw her away. If there was one area in which you were always predictable, Bellamy, it was self-preservation.”
“Is that so?” It’s my turn to play the role of a conceited bastard. I run a hand along the inside of my right wrist, fingering the edge of a silver cufflink. Evelyn’s damn voice is in my head, prattling on about the dangers of blasted hypoglycemia—damn Gloria for ever mentioning that bloody term around her.Your blood sugar, Mr. Bellamy. You turn feral when you’re hungry.“Or maybe the truth is that I knew the moment I hired her that you would dig tirelessly until you found something to exploit, only to come up withnothing.”
Of that, I was bloody certain until five minutes ago. It was almost disgusting how clean she is—Evelyn King spent her whole life walking the straight and narrow. She didn’t have so much as a traffic citation to her name. The daughter of a military man, she’d maintained perfect marks and graduated at the top of her class. Her previous places of employment didn’t keep good enough records to discern much from. As far as a man like Adrian Riley was concerned, she was an unappealing target.
Until now. My eyes keep straying toward that goddamn paper.Kidnapping.The word alone conjures too many sordid, horrific conations to consider. Even the thought of someone hurting her makes me…
“As I mentioned before,” Riley says, his head cocked with an air of superiority. “Some of your investors might take offense to you being linked to such a scandal. The daughter of a well-known gambler and thief so intrinsically linked to your business interests might make them second-guess your judgment, Graeme.”
“And I’m sure you wouldn’t hesitate to inform them,” I snarl in reply.
Fuck.The man looks too smug for my liking. He continues to stroke his chin, his expression unreadable. “Perhaps…”
“And let’s say youweretelling the truth, as you yourself already guessed it isn’t like she’s indispensable. Frankly, I’ve been meaning to let her go for a while now. Anything you might try would merely give me an excuse to act on that desire.”
It’s a risky move to play my hand so early, though if Riley takes the bait, I can’t tell. Without giving a shred of emotion away, he rises to his feet.
“I suppose it’s a good thing that I didn’t ask you here to talk about Evelyn King then,” he says. I’m of half a mind to take his change of the topic as a sign of concession—but I don’t. “I’m merely asking that you consider the benefits a merger would bring to both of our mutual ventures. We can always discuss the finer details at another date.”
“I’ll consider it,” I say, forcing the words out. My feelings for Adrian Riley aside, the bastard did hold some interesting cards in his deck. Writing him off outright would be counterintuitive. Making him sweat is far more enjoyable, regardless. “I say we conclude this meeting.”
I turn for the door without giving him a chance to respond. In three strides, I reach for the doorknob. I grip it firmly. Turn…
“Oh, and Bellamy?”
And there it is—that smug bit of inflection. Once again, the polished exterior cracks, revealing a hint of the manipulative tyrant lurking underneath. This is the same man who tricked my brother into ruin with little more than a wink and a handshake—like hell would he let me keep the upper hand so easily. Tension laces my entire body as I glance over my shoulder. “What?”
“You were right about Evelyn King. By all appearances, she does seem like the perfect assistant for someone with your… quirks. At least, on the surface.”
