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“What is it you want, then?”
I turn around immediately, folding my arms behind my back. Might as well.
“My money. You’ve not paid me for the hunt yet.”
He answers without looking at me, in a bored, businesslike tone. “I’ll have it transferred to your account as soon as you provide me with the relevant details.”
I widen my eyes. “Are you kidding me? Absolutely not. I want it in cash. Cold, hard, dirty cash.”
He unties his dirty plastron and pulls off his top. His upper body is slender; his collarbones protrude under his skin like a necklace of ivory. Despite this, he’s far stronger than he appears fully clothed. His chest, arms and abdominals are ridged with lean muscle. His stomach is flat and hard. The cut I left on him is a thin red scar, barring his chest as if his heart was a mistake someone carelessly crossed out.
He tosses his dirty uniform into a white hamper to the side and throws me a look of distaste. “Cash? How vulgar.”
I roll my eyes and absently rub at my thigh, the pink welt almost itchy with pain. “Sorry, I’m still waiting for my black card invite.”
He lets out a snicker. “You’ll be waiting a while. Your net worth is—what—fifty pence and a couple of porno mags?”
“Witty shit.” I pull a face at him. “In the meantime, Luca, cash will do.”
He gives a curt nod. “Very well. I’ll have my staff withdraw and deliver your cash tomorrow. Anything else?”
I glance at his face, the crimson handprint that’s inevitably going to heal into a big ugly purple bruise. “Don’t tell Nadine I did that.”
He gives a smirk almost as ugly as the bruise he’s going to have. “Nadine will assume you slapped me during one of our violent fucks.”
“What—” I stare at him, mouth fallen open, too speechless to form a full sentence. Then, “Nadine thinks we’refucking?”
“Why else would I keep you around? Certainly not for affection or the pleasure of your witty conversation.”
I glare at him. “We’renotfucking, though.”
He lets out a harsh laugh, and his arm shoots out between us. He grabs my face so hard he slams me back into the smooth wooden wall next to the doorway.
“Trust me, Lynch, wearefucking. I’ve just not put my dick in you yet.” He leans forward and plants a kiss on my mouth.
A slow, soft kiss, so repellently tender it makes my knees weak and my stomach clench with nausea.
20
Sexual Harrassment
Luca
The next day, Woodrowstiffly hands me the envelope of cash I instructed him to bring. He asks no questions and makes no comments, but his eyes rest insistently on my face, which right now is sporting one outstandingly purple hand-shaped bruise.
“Should I reschedule the interview, sir?” he asks with withering formality.
Agreeing to the interview with Mitchell wasn’t a whim. It’s partly a reconnaissance mission, a way of assessing my would-be foe by meeting him face-to-face. But it’s also strategic manoeuvring. Testing Mitchell’s motivations, controlling his perception of me and through that, the direction of the narrative he’s going to try to create.
Most importantly of all, the interview will serve as a diversionary tactic. While Mitchell is busy picking me apart, he won’t notice my small team of hackers pickinghimapart.
The interview is scheduled for the following week, right at the start of February. I really should have known better than to provoke Willow so close to the interview. In all fairness, one should not live with feral animals and not expect to be bitten. Her vulnerability while she was ill lulled me into a false sense of security—the slap brought me firmly back to the reality of exactly who she is.
“I see no need,” I say, waving a dismissive hand at Woodrow as we both head into my office.
“Have you hazarded to look in the mirror this morning, sir?” Woodrow asks. “You might see the needthen.”
“I’m well aware of what I look like.” My words are sharp, but my tone is mild.
