Page 25 of Scorpion

Mathijs enters the foyer a second after I do. There’s a subtle pinch between his brow, and an air of intimidation around him that I’ve never seen before.

Mathijs Halenbeek. Leader of the Halenbeek Empire. An Elder within the Exodus. This is the first time I’ve met this version of him, and I don’t know what to make of it. But I can’t help feeling some semblance of solace knowing that I’m not the only one whose skin had to turn into stone to make it through.

The one security guard stationed inside exits through the front door behind me. When the lock clicks shut, Mathijs’s mask disappears. He drags his heated gaze from the top of my head down to the soles of my feet. A sly grin shapes his lips, and I’m like a deer caught in headlights. What on earth am I meant to do in this kind of situation?

I’m meant to be his employee, paid to keep him safe. Blatantly checking me out has to be in violation of every single code of ethics employers are meant to adopt.

“Come with me.”

I square my shoulders. “Is that an order?”

“If that’s what you prefer.” He winks. “I recall you liked being told what to do.”

Red flushes my cheeks in an instant. I gape at the space he once occupied and curse internally before scrambling after him. Just like old times.

That’s an added stress I didn’t think would come with the job—getting flustered because my ex-boyfriend-turned-boss hit on me.

And brought up our old sex life.

My first hour isn’t getting off to a good start.

I clear my throat as I follow him into his office, which has barely changed. There’s still a giant stag head mounted on the wall, with two smaller ones on either side of it. He’s still using the same antique, green rug, and leather couch, and the grand table facing the middle of the room.

He stations himself by the long meeting table where a pool table once stood. Maps and various ledgers and stacks of cash are strewn across it, haphazard yet organized. I still once more when he rakes his gaze up and down my body.

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Sorry, I wasn’t given a uniform.” Was I meant to ask for one, or did I wrongly assume that it would just be handed to me?

“Good. Because you don’t have one.”

Right. I’m meant to blend in… I look at my combat boots, cargo pants, and leather bomber jacket. I most definitely do not fit in. I look like I’ve stepped straight out of a post apocalyptic video game.

“You’ve dressed beautifully.” His lips quirk into a childish grin as my skin burns under the weight of his compliment. “Although, you would look better without all of it.”

Lord, help me.

High school pickup lines.

I cross my arms, suddenly feeling like I’m seventeen years old, listening to every single horrific pickup line he managed to find online. “You’re going to get a sexual harassment lawsuit if you keep this up.”

“That’s why you’re a contractor. Can’t sue me then.” He taps his temple, signaling that he thought it through. “It would be unfortunate for my hired guns to unionize. The Halenbeek Enterprise HR team has enough on their plate as is.”

I roll my eyes, and for some reason, his smile turns beaming. The sight makes my chest squeeze. Mathijs has started wearing my defenses down far too quickly and it’s unsettling me. I’m not sure whether I’m turning into a stranger or into someone I’ve always known.

Before I can overthink the heavy shift in the air, he launches into explaining today’s excursion. “I’ve arranged to meet with an informant who has intel regarding Goldchild’s shop.” He points to a spot on the map. “It’s an abandoned factory out west in a commercial area. One of my men has scouted it and identified three possible locations for you to set up.” He taps three spots surrounding the factory. “You’ll be the eyes of this operation. If this is a setup, shoot to kill.”

My lips part, not because of what’s being asked of me, but because he’s the one telling me to pull the trigger. It’s hard to reconcile the fact that this is the same man who made pillow forts with me and memorized the recipe for microwave mug-brownies.

I swallow and nod. I admit, I’m looking forward to having a rifle back in my hands.

“The society I’m part of, the Exodus, has been up my ass. They wanted Goldchild’s head on a platter last week. I don’t care what needs to be done, I want him on a pike Vlad the Impaler–style.”

Right. Best I can do is shoot him.

I nod once more.

Sergei joins us a moment later to debrief me on the plans, including times, streets, and best- and worst-case scenarios. My head swims with information, but the familiarity of it all has my blood thrumming. It’s a heady mix of excitement and the anxiety of imminent death.

When the door shuts behind Sergei, I revert my attention to Mathijs, waiting for an order or some indication that we’re going to head out—or more specifically, I’m allowed to head out to scout the area first.

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