Page 119 of Breaker

I reach for the envelope. My heart thumps in my ears as I lean down and set it on his lap.

Without a word, he grabs the envelope and leans back in his seat. As he pulls out the images, his face drains of color and those hazel eyes shoot up to meet mine, and I know I’ve got him.

The photos are grainy, but you can still identify who’s in the pictures.

“Where the fuck did you get these?” he hisses, shoving them back into the envelope and tucking it into his suit jacket. He glances toward the door, like Clyde’s there, taking stock of our conversation.

“You can keep those as a memento,” I say, gesturing to his chest. “Don’t worry. I have copies and two separate drives as backup, in case you lose those.”

Zane’s chest rises, hands tightening on his thighs. I’m sure he’s imaging throttling me, but I’ve got his balls in a vise, and he knows it. “What do you want?” he says.

“Unless you want those images leaked,” I say, looking as smug as I feel. “You will never touch me again.”

His teeth grind, his jaw working so hard I’d bet he’s about to crack a tooth.

“Do you understand what I’m saying, Zane?”

“You can’t prove anything.” He taps the envelope hidden in his pocket. “I made a deal with Rune, and these pictures won’t even faze him.”

“Ah yes. The deal with Rune.” I stand upright, reveling in the power I’m holding.God, this feels good. Finally having the upper hand. “Let me see if I have this correct. We get married. You take control of my assets after I sign it all over to you. Then Rune gets my shares of the corporation, and you get my money. Probably the real estate too?”

“About sums up what he proposed.”

Walking back behind the desk, I sit, meeting his eyes dead on. “I’m surprised you’d want this house.”

His jaw tics.

“Then again, you have some fond memories from all the time you spent here.”

I don’t miss the slow drawing in of air. How his fingers grip the armrest. How his legs shift slightly, like his body is preparing to either lunge for me or bolt from the room.

Maybe he has yet to decide.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he says, even though the tightness in his jaw, the pulse throbbing in his neck, screams he obviously knows exactly what I mean.

“Prissy.”

Zane blanches and my belly fizzes with excitement. He shrinks into himself, like a dog waiting for the next kick.

“Prissy really liked you.” I lean back in the chair, sucking in the power I have over him, filling my lungs with it. Loving it’s sweet acidic taste on my tongue. “From what I remember, she screamed your name the loudest.”

His quick exhale lets me know I have him. I was young, but fuck, so was he. Zane would have only been in his early twenties when my mother held her parties. He was thinner back then, boyish but muscled. Face unmarked with age or experience, more pretty than handsome, the way young men tend to be.

I smile prettily, repeating the words he used to say when he’d come over. “’Come, here, Prissy, sit on my lap.‘”

I always saw them as they arrived. Sometimes my mother would forget about me and when she’d realize she’d forgotten to lock me away, I would catch glimpses of their faces as she shut the closet door.

Zane was one of her favorites.

And while the images of the security footage showing Zane walking into this house fifteen years ago, means he spent time with my parents, it doesn’t provide enough ammo to force him to his knees.

Only I can do that.

Stupid of him to think I wouldn’t remember him. But I do. His chameleon like ways and his vile sneer. How he’d talk loudly, not caring that a little girl was in the house, hearing and storing away everything he ever said.

Everything they ever planned.

“What do you want?” he asks quietly.

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