Page 85 of The Bonus

Your next appointment is here.

Mr. Don Johnston.

Don Johnston, what kind of name is that? I glance at my watch, I hate having appointments with new clients this late in the day. I reply to Ruth.

Send him in please.

I close down my email and take a sip of my water and stand and open the door.

Gabriel Ferrara is striding down the corridor toward me, and my eyes widen in horror.

“Hello, Miss Porter.” He sneers as he walks past me into my office.

Shit.

Fake appointment.

Diabolical.

I glance around my office for an escape route before closing the door.

He’s towering above me, wearing a perfectly fitted suit; his black hair has a bit of a curl to it and his animosity is encapsulating the room, making everything else feel so small and insignificant.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He sits down at my desk. “You told me to make an appointment.” He points to my chair. “Sit.”

I drop into my chair, my nervous heart hammering. “What do you want?”

He sits back and crosses his legs, arrogance personified, and his dark eyes hold mine. “I would like to know a little bit about you.”

I shrug as I act casual. “There’s nothing to know.”

“Cut the bullshit, Grace,” he fires back. “Do you have something to tell me?”

I swallow the bucket of sand in my throat as my eyes hold his. I imagine him flipping the desk and smashing the windows or something equally dramatic.

“Like what?”

“Do. Not. Play. With. Me.” He bangs his hand on my desk and I jump.

I swallow the nervous lump in my throat.

“Are they or are they not my children?”

His silhouette blurs.

His jaw tics in anger. “Answer. The. Fucking. Question.”

I nod. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“You…” I try to say the words out loud, but my dry mouth betrays me, I can’t even form a sentence.

“You what?” he spits angrily.

“Yes. You are their biological father,” I say quietly.

---