Page 20 of Coerced Wife

What’s that supposed to mean? I scrunch the paper into a ball and dump it in the trashcan before sliding the book to the side. Does he already have the book? The purchase slip was inside. He could’ve exchanged it. It’s just a book, not a million dollars. It’s no big deal. I thought he’d be happy to have new reading material while working the night shift.

“Zack left that,” Jasmine says next to me.

I wake up my computer. “I know.”

“He had an appointment with HR.”

“About what?” I ask, worried about him.

“Annual appraisal. Mine is coming up next month. I hope I get my bonus. There’s talk that they’re cutting down on costs. With Mr. Lewis gone, some of the clients moved their business.”

“I know,” I say again, concern tightening my stomach.

Pushing everything else from my mind, I focus on my work until it’s time to clock off. I’m surprised to find Saverio’s driver, Kevin, waiting for me outside together with the usual guards who’ll follow us in their own car. I got used to Saverio driving me around himself.

On cue, a text message comes in on my phone. Saverio tells me he’s caught up in a meeting at the club, so I decide to go past Livy’s place. She’s always been clever with investments. I use the opportunity to ask her about varioustrust funds and insurance policies. I already made some deductions from the information I read online, but Livy has been playing the stock market for years. She gives me the details of a good broker before we hug and say goodbye.

One of the guards opens the door downstairs for me. When Kevin asks if I’m heading home, I hesitate. On impulse, I ask him to go past the office again.

Zack is at his post when I walk inside.

His smile slips when he looks up and notices it’s me.

“Hey,” I say, trying to get a read on him.

He gives a stiff nod. “Ms. Brennan.”

I frown. “What’s with the formal greeting?” My laugh is uncomfortable. “I’ve always been Anya, haven’t I?”

He sits up straighter. “Things are different now.”

“Are they? Different how?”

He glances through the window behind me. “You’re with Mr. De Luca.”

“How does that change anything?”

His tone is cold. “I know who he is.”

I think everyone does, but I don’t want to say that. I can hardly stand here and admit that my fake boyfriend is a big bad mafia guy.

“Look,” he says, appearing nervous, “I don’t want trouble. I just want to do my job and keep under the radar if you know what I mean.”

Even though I understand his reasoning, his rejection hurts. He’s right not to want anything to do with me.

“I’m just a security guard, Ms. Brennan, but I’m not stupid.” He adds with hostility, “I have no proof, but I know in my gut Mr. De Luca had something to do with Mr. Lewis’s murder.”

I have nothing to say to that. I can only stare at him.

He stands. “I appreciate your kindness, but it’s better that we keep our distance.”

“Right,” I say, shame burning on my cheeks. “That’s why you returned the book.”

His smile is wry. “I don’t want to give Mr. De Luca the wrong idea about us. I’ve got eyes in my head. I’ve seen the way he is with you. Something like that can get someone like me killed.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” What else can I say?

“Good night, Ms. Brennan,” he says, dismissing me with a decisive tilt of his head toward the door.

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