Page 358 of Rage

Taming His Lady

By: Sarah Bale and Everleigh Blake

Chapter One

Wren

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Unknown: Why do you stay, little bird? Letting them shit all over you…

Me: WHO IS THIS???

When the mystery texter doesn’t reply, I look around, willing him to reveal himself. Based on the video I got the other night, I know it’s a ‘he.’ My cheeks heat—the one where he was stroking himself with a pair of my panties. I should have been horrified. And I was. How did he get my panties? Was he in my house? Is he watching me there as well as here? All things I should worry about, but my arousal quickly took over until all I felt was heat.

My swallow is audible and has me reaching for the drink on my desk.

The thing is, he’s not wrong. Why do I stay here? Because theydoshit on me. Take now, for example. My boss just embarrassed me in front of a new client and several of my coworkers to make himself look better. Like it helped much. In fact, the only reason the CEO of Rossi Enterprises is here is because ofme. Not that any of these fools would admit it.

Mr. Rossi’s gaze lands on me, as if I’ve summoned his attention. I hold his icy blue stare for two seconds before lookingaway. I grab my phone for good measure and act like I’m reading something.

Gideon Rossi, the self-made millionaire of Rossi Enterprises, has a reputation that precedes him. Womanizer. Vicious. Ruthless. Some have even echoed the word ‘Mobster’ when describing him. All seems accurate to me. Especially the last bit. I mean, the man screams danger. Upon first glance, he appears to be civilized. Tom Ford suit that’s altered to fit his muscular body like a glove. Custom cologne that lulls you into a false sense of security. Black hair that’s styled to perfection with flecks of silver at his temples. All in all, averygood-looking man.

When you take a closer look, that’s where things reveal themselves. Not even his tailored suit can hide the tattoos that mark his chest and arms. Even now, I can see some of the colorful inked lines snaking from under his shirt onto the top of his hand. If the rumors are true, the tattoos all have to do with the Rossi Mafia. His well-maintained appearance can’t hide the scars on his face and hands. Scars that are rumored to be from knife fights. Can you imagine?Knife fights.

I have to admit that his danger is what made him so appealing to me. The company I work for invests money for high-end clients like Gideon Rossi, taking their millions and turning them into billions. No one in the city wants to touch Gideon or his money, as rumors run rampant that he killed the last person involved with his finances. To me, I see a challenge. High risk equals high rewards for all involved. And god knows I need all the financial rewards I can get.

The thought has me frowning just as my boss asks me a question. He sees the look on my face as he looks up and says, “If you can’t be professional, Ms. Copeland, then perhaps you should leave this meeting.”

Before I can reply, Mr. Rossi swoops in. “I believe Ms. Copeland stubbed her toe right before you asked her thequestion, Bart.” He gives my boss a charming smile. “Show a bit of compassion.”

My boss nods. “Of course. Apologies, Ms. Copeland.”

My smile is tight. “No worries at all. I will excuse myself, though, so I can get the paperwork for Mr. Rossi and send it to his office.”

I duck out of the conference room without waiting for anyone to reply. As I walk, I curse my boss under my breath. Each step brings a new curse word or insult. Prick. Asshole. Douche. Dick. Bastard. Jackass. Dookie-head. Okay, that last one is me reaching deep into the insult section of my brain.

I’m almost to my office when a strong hand touches my arm, making me let out a sound somewhere between a scream and a yelp.

“Pardon me, Ms. Copeland. I thought you heard me call out your name.” Gideon Rossi looks down at me, his lips lifting upward. “Though I suppose it might be hard to hear me over all the names you were calling Bart. What was the last one? Dookie-head?”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Rossi. I didn’t know you were behind me.”

“Would that have stopped you from calling Bart all those names?”

“Of course.”

He looks disappointed. “Pity. I admire a woman who isn’t afraid to speak her mind.”

I laugh before I can stop myself.

“Something funny, Ms. Copeland?”

“Yes. It’s funny that you think women have the luxury of going around speaking their minds. Do you know what happens when a woman speaks her mind, Mr. Rossi?” I wait a beat. “They’re called emotional and unstable as if I haven’t seen Bart throw a phone across the room in a fit of rage. But does anyone call him emotional and unstable? No.”

“I see.”

“No, I don’t think you do. Did you know that I was the one who reached out to your company proposing the meeting? I’m also the one who did all the research and found out where we could help you.” I let out another small laugh. “When Bart found out what I had done, he immediately went to his bosses and claimed credit, which is why your meeting was with him and not me.”

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