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Once again, I wonder what the fuck I see in this woman, and I snap. “I don’t want anything from you other than your ass at your desk doing the job I pay you extremely well for. You can use the guest bathroom. Be ready in fifteen minutes.”
I slam the door behind her and lock it for good measure because I wouldn’t put it past her to try her luck again.
As I stand under the cold jets of a hard wake-up call, I resolve to end any further intimacies with my willing executive. It should never have happened, but she was convenient and has provided a reliable fuck whenever I say so.
My grandfather’s words are coming back to bite me as I scrub that woman from my skin.
“You are becoming a joke, Killian. Reckless, undiscerning and a playboy. Your name is rarely out of the tabloids and your list of fucks is thicker than a copy of Who’s Who. Clean up your act and become a saint, because the only way we are going to win is to be spotless. So, shine up your principles and unpack your scruples because you must become whiter than white itself if we are going to beat them at their own game.”
I hated every word he spoke but owned them. I am out of control sexually and use any willing woman who flashes her eyes in my direction. It’s become the candy that is threatening to choke me, and I am awash with the effects of gluttony. I have over indulged and hate the fact I have lost control of my libido. Sex is my release and the rougher the better. Violent, destructive sex feeds the beast inside me and powers my soul. The harder I fuck, the more I want, and I’m never satisfied. I’m an animal with no moral compass and yet when I pull on my business suit, any passion inside me is replaced by cold cruelty. There I get my kicks another way and I tear down my enemies and ruin lives — just because I can.
As I dress, I think about the life I live and can’t imagine it any other way. It is controlled, meticulous and satisfying and I congratulate myself on having my shit worked out. Why should I let my grandfather dictate my basic requirements but even I realize he has a point? I must calm the beast to kill the one threatening our livelihood and if it means I fall into line, I’ll do whatever it takes. I will become a saint disguising the devil I really am just to win this bloody war. If it means cloaking my red soul with light, I will do it all in the name of victory.
Gabriella is waiting by the door and without even a look in her direction, I head into the elevator and press for the basement.
As the door closes, she says belligerently, “You’re a fucking bastard, Kill. Would it hurt you to show a little affection once in a while?”
I am so close to removing this woman from life forever, but realize Gabriella is too much of a business asset to replace anytime soon, so I guard my tone and say dispassionately, “We have a job to do. There is no room for anything else.”
“Until tonight.” I detect the hope in her voice and fix her with a dismissive gaze as I say cruelly, “That was the last time, Gabriella. From now on, you do your job, not me. Understand.”
“What the…” Her mouth drops open as I adjust my gold cufflinks and say in a bored voice. “I am cleaning up my act and that includes putting out the trash. Find some other distraction when you’re not doing your job.”
“You…” She steps forward and raises her hand to strike me, and I catch it easily and sneer, “Not a good move, Miss. Sinclair, if you value your life. Go gracefully and you will survive another day. Do anything to upset me and it’s game over. Understand?”
She nods miserably, knowing I’m a man of my word and as the elevator doors open, my protection moves forward, and I wave to the second car. “Miss. Sinclair will be traveling alone from now on.”
She can’t even object as she is ushered toward the second car and as I step into the first one, my bodyguard Saint closes the door with an approving nod. He always hated Gabriella. I could see it in his eyes and as always it reminds me he knows me better than I know myself sometimes.
* * *
On the journey,I work. I always do and usually spend it briefing Gabriella on what is expected. Now I’m alone and for a very good reason. I am going to become whiter than freshly fallen snow with a view to bringing our enemies down. There is much to do, so I spend the time wisely and work hard on formulating a plan that will deliver everything we want.
I don’t register the journey time at all and as the car stops outside my building, I am mildly irritated that I must waste precious minutes relocating to my office.
Saint opens the door and glances around to check the surroundings and after a nod, I step from the car and take a deep breath of normal life before I head inside the building that offers a distinctly abnormal one.
The name on the brass plate never gets old and I gaze with satisfaction at the company I created from scratch. Gold Hawk Enterprises. An acquisitions business that buys and sells, making a gigantic profit between transactions. This is the legitimate face of my business, which hides the dirty one that lies beneath the cracks.
Extortion, murder, drugs and intimidation. Money laundering and illegal activities that would make a lifetime behind bars a certainty if it wasn’t for one impenetrable shield protecting us.
The Dark Lords.
The organization my grandfather started when he was a young kid in college has grown exponentially to become the largest secret society in the world right now. At least that’s what we believe, but the trouble with secret societies is, they don’t publish the minutes of their meetings to the nation. Who knows who is waiting in our shadow, which is why we need this organization like an IV line.
I head inside the building and stare straight ahead, not risking any eye contact with people I wouldn’t be able to pick out in a crowd. My employees are paid well but have no loyalty from me and I couldn’t name anyone outside of my own close team.
Gabriella follows me inside and only the receptionist calling her name distracts my attention from my desire to get to my office.
“Miss. Sinclair.”
It makes me look, but as my eyes turn, it’s not the receptionist I see in my vision but a curious sight instead.
Sitting on the couch waiting is a young woman. Not unusual, but the sunlight streaming through the glass is surrounding her in brilliance. It catches on her white hair and bounces off the curious aquamarine eyes that are staring at us with interest.
Even from here, I can tell she is a cuckoo in this particular nest because she is sitting straight-backed, her hands clasped on her knees and her feet crossed at her ankles. As our eyes lock, I witness a morbid curiosity, but nothing else. She stares back at me, showing no fear, no sexual interest and nothing but polite indifference, and that holds my attention more than anything.
It happens in a split second and then Gabriella moves past me and stops before her, blocking my view and I keep walking, but it’s as if my steps are forced and slow. For some reason, this woman has the ability to slow me down and I’m surprised about that.
