Page 132 of Emerald Malice

I get to my feet. “First thing tomorrow, you will reinstate Natalia and wipe clean any black marks on her record. You will also give her a raise and an apology for your glaring lapse in judgment.” I crack my knuckles and then my neck. “Personally, I think Natalia can do much better than your shitty little operation. But as long as she wants to work for you, I expect her to have a job there. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’re in agreement.” I pull out a knife, causing Richard to piss himself a little more. “Get a hold of yourself, man. I’m just going to cut you loose.”

The moment his hands are free, he snatches his duvet and fumbles to cover himself. Smirking, I walk to the door.

“Wait!” I glance at him over my shoulder and listen. “What do you want me to do about Byron?”

“You don’t have to worry about Byron. I’ve already taken care of that problem for you.” I smile and pull the door closed. “You’re welcome.”

46

NATALIA

“Nice, huh?” Leonty asks.

I take in the sunlight filtering in through the bay windows and the view of the property. “It’s great,” I agree. “But I still don’t know why you brought me here.”

Leonty’s looking down at the garden as he replies, “Because your baby is gonna need a nursery.”

This room would be perfect for a nursery—but that also means I would have to move into the main house at some point, too. Loathe as I am to admit it, I’ve become attached to the pool house.

It’s a convenient loophole to keep from having to admit that Andrey and I live together.

We’re under two separate roofs. We’re neighbors more than anything.

But if my baby is going to be in a nursery in the big house, where does that leave me? Where does that leave us?

“Maybe we could add an extension onto the pool house?” I suggest. “Create a little nook for the baby?”

Leonty purses his lips. “Let me know how that conversation flies with the head honcho.”

“Wuss.”

“I don’t see you rushing off to bring up the idea to him. You’re just leaving it to me. Coward.”

I chuckle. Takes one to know one, I guess.

Ever since my suspension from work and subsequent, suspiciously quick, reinstatement, I’ve wanted to ask Andrey what part he had to play in all of it. Because he must have done something.

Mr. Ewes reversed his decision in under twenty-four hours, and I not only escaped an HR review, but earned a raise.

Also, where in the hell did Byron go? I mean, the man disappeared without so much as a goodbye party in the breakroom. The only explanation I got was the same one as the rest of Sunshield: Mr. Wells has decided to hand in his resignation and pursue alternative career prospects.

Nobody bought that.

Least of all me.

Not after Andrey had basically assured me that he would “take care of everything.” I could just ask Andrey, but truth be told, I’m terrified of what he might say.

“Andrey is busy, okay?” I say. “I don’t want to bother him.”

“Since when?”

Glowering, I join him at the windows. “Since he might have killed my boss for sexually harassing me.”

Leonty’s smile withers. “Would you just let it go already? You’ve got a good thing going here, Nat. Just enjoy it.”

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