Page 25 of Monstrous Urges

It puts us in a scary spot.

Now… I wish I could say that the current insanity in my professional life overshadows the lurking, sultry darkness in my private one.

Spoiler: it doesn’t. Not. Even. A. Little. Bit.

Just the sight of my phone, or feeling its weight in a jacket pocket or my bag, sends a little creeping reminder finger-walking its way up my spine.

My location is on.

He knows where I am.

I’m still not staying in my own apartment, but that means nothing. I actually messaged Tech Support for the Venom app—which swears it only sees your username, not your real name—to ask them about that location setting.

It’s not just “kind of” accurate, like someone would know what building you’re in. It’s pinpointed to within a foot.

He knows exactly where I am. Always.

So, even as crazy as my real life has become, the shivering dark fantasy is still there, lurking in the shadowy places of my mind, occupying my thoughts whenever they start to stray.

I think what twists me up the most and makes my skin tingle every minute of every day is not even the knowledge that I’m being hunted. It’s the notion that I don’t know who he is.

I don’t have a clue what he looks like, aside from those piercing, icy-blue eyes and huge build. And it’s that lingering, not-knowing, tugging little sensation at base of my skull reminding me that he could be anywhere at any time that has my pulse pounding.

“Feel like joining us today, Taylor?”

Shit.

Guiltily, I wrench myself out of my own head and focus on Alistair leaning against his desk with his arms folded over his chest. Gabriel’s in an almost identical pose against the glass of the windows. They arch their brows at me as I clear my throat.

“Sorry, is this little discussion about the state of our business and livelihood boring you, T?” Alistair mutters.

I give him a middle finger, which makes him grin.

“Easy, man,” Gabriel growls, shooting his brother a glare. “We’re all on the same side here. We’re just trying to figure out a solution.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What about the idea of restructuring the debt?” I frown. “Have Eloise and the financial wizards found anything there?”

Gabriel shakes his head. “Roger’s not fucking around. The actual debt amount is three hundred and ninety-nine million, nine-hundred and ninety-nine thousand?—”

“And nine-hundred and ninety-nine dollars, isn’t it,” I groan.

“And ninety-nine motherfucking cents,” Gabriel spits.

Alistair’s brow furrows. “And the relevancy of that is…?”

“Roger’s LLC is based in Switzerland.”

Alistair scowls. “So?”

“You can only restructure corporate debt to a foreign company once it’s over four hundred million dollars,” I groan. “Motherfucker knew what he was doing.”

“Jesus,” Alistair hisses. “Okay, what about nuking the deal itself? We only finalized the actual purchase of Poulter and Lenz sixty days ago. If I’m not mistaken, there’s a ninety-day window for us to terminate the sale and walk away. We’d take a bath on the down payment, but we’d get back the rest after settlement.” He shrugs. “It’s still better than selling to that fuckhead.”

I shake my head. “With a unanimous board, that’s feasible. But we don’t have that. Jennifer Quan and Terence De Hoef aren’t budging. I think Roger’s gotten into their pockets somehow.”

Gabriel shrugs. “Terence, maybe. I think Jennifer is just spooked by my departure. She’s one of the longest-serving members of the board. I think she’s worried about us going down to two managing partners.”

“Well,” Alistair grunts. “The fuck are we waiting for, then? Let’s pull the trigger. I’m for either Fumi or Elsa.” He glances to me. “Guessing you vote for Fumi?”

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