Page 25 of Queen Of Dark Money

oofwoof, motherfucker.”

Iknow the fuck she did not just bark at me.

Hersmug smirk would say otherwise, though.

Shestood there, my little captive, feral as a wild dingo, grinning–no,leeringat me like a freak show in the traveling circus.Herexpressive eyes were in full form today, turned on me like a weapon, piercing my soul as she watched me through them like a hawk.

Irolled my own eyes back at her, incapable of being the bigger adult here, and grabbed her by the arm, dragging the fighting girl along behind me.Shewas resourceful,I’dgive her that, and had managed to find some supplies in the bathroom, butIhad things to do today, andIcouldn’t keep eyes on her all day.SoIhad plans.

Plansto keep her in one place, hopefully.

CatrionaSinclairtried desperately to jerk her arm out of my grip, a futile waste of her energy, and when we reached my office,Isimply shoved her in the direction of my couch, trusting she’d take the direction without needing it vocalized.Shewasn’t stupid, not by any stretch of the imagination, and my intent was clear.

Butshe was stubborn.Ofcourse this fucking firebrand decided to fight me still, refusing to sit down like a good girl.

Shestood in the center of the room with her arms folded over her chest and stared me down, unmoving, unwavering, steadfast.

Aheadache began to form behind my eyes asIpinched the bridge of my nose, my eyes drifting closed. “Listenhere,MissSinclair–”

“I’mnot her,” she interjected, that bottom lip coming out in a fucking pout. “That’snot my name.”

Ifmy eyes rolled any harder, they’d get stuck in the back of my head.Icould already see this was about to be a long-suffering experience.

Justwhat hadIgotten myself into?

TheKingsowed mebig time.Thiswas going to be more than just a mild headache.I’dbe surprised ifIdidn’t walk away with a full-blown migraine by the time she was done tormenting me.

Iwasn’t even the fucker who kidnapped her.

“Listen.Idon’t care what your name is, okay?”Istrode over to my desk, the comforting, broken-in leather chair absorbing me like a second skin. “AllIknow isIhave some important work to do, and you’re going to sit there like a respectable, demure bitch and stay quiet whileIsort through it all.”

Shemumbled under her breath but did as she was told, albeit with some attitude.Itwas like having a ten-year-old in my custody, all sass and malice, and who knew what kind of chaos.AndIwould have to ensure none was turned on me.

Howquaint and entertaining.

Notat all howIplanned to spend my day.

Iwas supposed to entertain a jewel smuggler fromNairobitoday, hopefully to close a shipping deal with him.Thenthere was the fucking appointment with the managerial staff of my busiest jewelry store in town, who’d been dealing with a string ofpetty thefts and break-ins where nothing came up missing.Afterthat,I–

Ididn’t know what the fuck was on the schedule becauseI’dgiven my assistant the day off.Shewas as trustworthy as they came, butIcouldn’t be sureMissNot-Sinclairwouldn’t try something funny and beg her to save her.Thelast thingIneeded was my very tried-and-true assistant to quit on me because she thoughtIwas in the habit of kidnapping women and holding them against their will.

Thiswas only a one-off, and not of my own choosing.

Igot through a phone call to reschedule the appointment with my employee, but the smuggler fromNairobirefused, saying he’d only made plans to be in town a day, maybe two at max.Pressedfor time, and with no other option,Idecided to have him come to me, knowingI’dregret this, but seeing no other option.

I’djust have to find a way to keep this prissy high-class princess from fucking things up.

Duringmy second conference call, she started to snore softly from the couch, slumped uncomfortably over the stiff, new leather.I’donly had that fucking couch a few weeks, and this bitch was currently drooling on it like she had lost control of her faculties in sleep.

Adisturbing thought rolled through me, some things clicking into place simultaneously.

Didthose fuckers drug her to kidnap her?

Itwas entirely possible, depending on how difficult she’d been to handle.Butthere was no way for me to know for sure unlessIcalled the pricks who put me in this situation and asked outright.

AndIdidnotcare that much.Ididn’t.

Idid not give enough of a shit because it wasn’t my problem.Shewas only a temporary inconvenience to me.Soonenough, she’d be on her way, andIcould continue my life.

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