Page 31 of Any Means Necessary

The entire apartment smells deliciously like sugar and cinnamon, the scent as enticing as it is infuriating. Lexie stands at the counter in a cute little apron with a pan of baked goods. Roscoe’s behind her, lifting the heavy mixer back up onto the top shelf of the tall cabinet by the fridge.

“When you’re done playing baker,” the bite in my voice has my enforcer standing at attention, “Enzo is waiting for you at the warehouse for my cut of the Ortega shipment.”

“I’ll leave now, boss.” Roscoe nods, but Lexie stops him.

“Oh, here,” she lifts a plate carrying a large cinnamon roll in front of his face. “Take one with you.”

I refrain from rolling my eyes when the grizzly man’s face lights up, his lips twitching with a smile, as he takes the plate before heading towards the door. The look I flash him is more than irritated, swiping the ridiculous mushy expression off his face on his way out.

Either unaware or unfazed by my mood, Lexie turns to me with another dessert on a plate. With her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, girly apron cinched in at her waist, and a big smile as she presents the baked good—she’s the picture of sweet perfection. And it’s aggravatingly arousing.

“Do you want a cinnamon roll? Roscoe said they’re his favorite, so I made a bunch.”

“No, I don’t want a cinnamon roll,” I grate, frustration brewing inside me. Sal’s incompetence has me grasping at straws, getting in the way of my meticulous work. I can’t do my job if people can’t follow through on their end, and it’s my results that suffer.

“What’s your problem? I was just being nice.” Lexie’s tone turns assertive, her arms crossing under her breasts.

She wants to be friends. We’re not fucking friends. With Lexie, it’s either more or nothing. And we can’t be more.

There’s something about this woman that irks me to my very core. Every instinct in my body is roaring for me to lean in closer when my rational brain tells me I should get as far away from her as possible. And the warring urges fuel a resentment inside me, sparked by irritation and frustration.

“The problem is that we’re not friends, Lexie. You work for me, that’s it. I’ll let you know when I need you, all you have to do is follow orders.” My words come out coldly, betraying the anger simmering inside me. “I don’t need baked goods with frosting and sprinkles.”

A full range of emotions crosses Lexie’s open face—shock, outrage, confusion, defiance—before settling on hostile acceptance. She lets out a short humorless laugh, completely devoid of her usual warmth.

I hate it.

“Fine, if that’s how you want it to be.” She matches my coldness, plopping a cinnamon roll heavily onto a plate. “I won’t bother you with any more baked goods.”

With that, she swipes the plate from the counter and stalks out of the kitchen towards her room. I watch her go, frustration warring with a sinking feeling starting to claw at me that feels almost like regret.

***

My head hurts. Every gritty detail of the Harris job—every question, strategy, and possible outcome—races through my mind in a thundering roar that pounds against my temples. I’ve been sitting for too long, focusing too hard. Shoving away from my desk with a harsh breath, I stand to stride across my office. Standing in the doorway, I fight to quiet my brain as my eyes wander across the penthouse. My gaze doesn’t stop moving until it lands heavily on Lexie’s blonde head in the living room. The Harris job fades away as my laser focus zeroes in on the captivating woman.

Sweet fucking silence.

She’s barely looked at me since our confrontation in the kitchen yesterday. And true to her word, she hasn’t offered me another cinnamon roll, or a slice of the banana bread she baked early this morning. I should feel relieved, but all I feel is irritation. Turns out, being on the receiving end of Lexie’s cold shoulder bothers me more than I thought it could.

And it’s only been one damn day.

I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of her. Since we’ve met, Lexie’s drawn me in like a moth to a fucking flame. Her energy is unapologetic and irresistible. With the way she collects admirers wherever she goes, I know I’m not the only one who feels it.

Half of me—the twisted selfish half—feels the primal urge to snuff out that beautiful light of hers when she’s sharing it with other people. I want to be the only one who gets to bask in her rays. That smile should only ever appear for me. If I can’t harness it and own it, it shouldn’t exist at all. It’s a possessive and sick way of thinking, but it’s always a temptation residing just below the surface.

Luckily the other half, the one I tend to listen to—to act on—doesn’t have it in him to steal that glow from her. Her lovely, addicting glow that radiates with everything she is. I’m self-aware enough to know this part of me is selfish too. If her light’s gone, my life dims with it. Her ability to scatter the shadows lurking with my demons vanishes. And I’m not willing to give that up. Not willing to give her up.

Lexie’s laughter rings through the penthouse, filling the living space even from her corner of the couch. Christ, I can’t stop looking at her.

She’s playing with the sleeve of her ridiculously cute matching loungewear set, the sky blue color exactly matching her eyes, her focus trained on the usually unfeeling bald man sitting on the opposite side of the couch. But even Roscoe cracks a smile for Lexie.

When I walk into the living room and her eyes meet mine, her smile falters.

I don’t fucking like it.

“Go get dressed, Lexie. We’re leaving,” I say before I fully think it through. This dinner with Viktor is just an excuse to go back to his office for a drink afterward and talk about his territory, I hadn’t decided to take Lexie along. But now that I’m standing in front of her, I want her with me.

“Am I putting on my scrubs?” she asks with a sigh. The fact that she assumes I only want her to come patch someone up chips at the wall around my heart. Because it couldn’t be further from the truth. But I should just say nevermind and have her stay home. She’ll just be a distraction anyway.

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