Page 140 of Worth Every Penny

“I will sort this out,” he whispers against my hair.

“It’s too late,” I reply, sobs rising up my throat now. “Too fucking late.” I push away and stare up at him, that splintering ache inside almost breaking me.

Nico blinks, breathing rapidly through flared nostrils. His dark eyes burn with an emotion so intense it sears me to my core. My thoughts are swirling out of control. Part of me wants him to grab me, to force me to relinquish the anger that holds us apart. To make it all fucking disappear. Another part of me wants to slap him, to strike my palm against his cheek and feel it sting. But I won’t do that. I refuse to lose my temper over this man again.

His phone rings, and he holds my gaze for a few tones before he pulls it from his pocket.

“You should take it,” I tell him.

He cancels the call. “We’re not done here.”

I bristle. “You do not get to choose when this is over.”

“Kate—”

I hold up a palm. “Please, go away. Leave me the fuck alone.”

He stares like he can’t believe what I’ve just said. The air strains with tension. I’m about to walk away when his phone rings again.

He drags his next inhalation, only breaking eye contact to check the screen. Without a word, he puts the phone to his ear and leaves the room.

43

NICO

Drizzling rain strikes the windscreen of Elliot’s car as we drive through the dark streets of London. It smells like wet dog and the window wipers let out an irritating squeak with each sweep over the glass.

“You got it all?” I check.

“Everything.” Elliot jerks his thumb over his shoulder to a folder sitting on the empty backseat of the car. He spins the steering wheel with one hand as we take a sharp turn. Bloody scabs cover his knuckles, but I’m sure Curtis’ face looks worse. “You could put Martin Brooks away for years,” he reassures me. “If that’s how you want to play it.”

“It’s not.” I tap the dashboard, running my fingertips against it again and again. Elliot side-eyes them.Fuck.I look twitchy as hell. I force my hand into stillness. “He’ll be home alone?”

“He will. I checked. No wife. No girlfriend. No family. No cameras. Nothing. It’s all clear.”

I should be elated, but a black sense of doom pools in my gut. Is it already too late? I wanted to do this before the presentation to save Kate the pain of losing the project. To saveher from suffering another humiliation at the hands of Martin Brooks. But we didn’t have everything we needed in time. We didn’t know which way David Webster was going to swing… didn’t know what Martin had on him and the other members of the Argentum board. Elliot only rang me to confirmafterthe presentation finished. He worked fast, all things considered, but not fast enough.

Sod’s law, but it is what it is. I’ll work with it.

“Mr. Hawkston?” Elliot’s voice hauls me back to the musty car as he parks up outside Martin Brooks’ house.

“You don’t have to come inside,” Elliot says. “I can do this without you.”

“I want to be there.” I sound deathly calm.

He nods and grabs the folder from the backseat, handing it to me before we both get out of the car.

Martin’s house looks neat and well-kept from the outside: perfect paintwork, trimmed front lawn, highly polished brass knocker on the gleaming front door. But it’s no surprise, given I gave the man a veritable fortune eight years ago.

I ring the bell, Elliot’s enormous bulk behind me offering protection I’m not used to needing.

A shadowy figure appears on the other side of the glass and moments later, Martin’s wrinkled face appears. He’s wearing a tartan dressing gown and sheepskin slippers, like he was planning a cosy evening in. The chance of that happening just slid to zero.

When he glimpses me, he tries to force the door closed again and blurts, “Oh, fuck, no.”

I thrust a palm against the edge of the door, forcing it wide. “We just want to chat, Mr. Brooks.”

He continues to push from the other side, but Elliot thrusts the door with such force that Martin slams against the interior wall, and Elliot and I walk inside.

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