Page 32 of Jack's Devotion

Two hours later, my assistant shows Gerald Laurent into my office. He's smiling like he's on top of the fucking world. If Madison calling him the other day rattled him, there's not a trace of it on his face as he glances between me and Drake.

"Jack! Drake!" he says like we're old friends.

I want to put my fist through his face.

I think Drake knows it because he places his hand on my arm, discreetly reminding me to chill the fuck out.

"Laurent," I mutter. "Good to see you."Fucking not ever, asshole. I hope you die in a hole.

He strolls across the office like his shit doesn't stink, and I want to wrap the damn cord from the blinds around his throat. I bet he'd squeal like a little bitch. Probably cry, too. A lot louder than Madison cried in that closet, listening to him plot how he was going to get her company.

"Take a seat," I mutter, waving at a chair across from my desk. I don't offer him a drink. I don't want him here long enough to finish one.

He sinks into the proffered chair, crossing one leg. His gaze drifts to Drake. "I heard congratulations are in order."

Drake grunts.

"Good for you, Whitlock. I always wish I'd had more, but it just wasn't in the cards for us." He sighs. "Magdalena was diagnosed with cancer before we got around to adding more to the brood."

"That's right." I snap my fingers. "The anniversary of your daughter's disappearance is coming up soon, isn't it? She's been missing for what is it? Six years now?"

"Seven," he says.

"Anything new happening there?"

"Nothing." He expels a beleaguered sigh. "Truthfully, I gave up hoping a long time ago. If she were still alive, she would have come home by now. She always was a mousy little homebody,and didn't like to go out much. We'll never have answers, I'm afraid."

You lying sack of shit.

"So what happens?" I ask, one hand clenched into a tight fist beneath the desk. "She's just forever listed as missing? You never get closure? That'd drive me fucking insane."

"Actually, they're planning to officially declare her deceased after her birthday," he says. "It doesn't mean much in the grand scheme of things. But I suppose it's the only closure we'll really have. There will be a memorial service."

"Without a body?"

Drake kicks me under the desk.

"I'm sorry. I just mean…that has to be fucking hard," I say.

"You have no idea."

He's so goddamn wrong about that, it's laughable. And the fact that he thinks I don't know why he wants her officially declared dead is insulting.Doesn't mean much in the grand scheme of things?Right. It just means that everything her mother left her officially becomes his. But I guess he wouldn't want that bandied about yet. Can't look like he has ulterior motives, now can he?

Jesus Christ, he's a fucking prick. He makes all the right expressions, sighs in all the right places, but there isn't a single ounce of emotion in his voice. We might as well be discussing the weather instead of the daughter he hasn't seen in seven years, one he supposedly misses and wants home.

Did he ever care about her at all? Did the fact that he never knew where she was haunt him at all? Did he miss her? Worry about her? Or has he spent every minute of the last seven years praying that she never showed back up, relieved that she was gone?

I hope, for her sake, that he worried about her even if he's incapable of actually showing it. I hope he missed her. And, even knowing that's not the case, I hope like hell she never hears anydifferent. She deserves to believe that the man who birthed her actually gives a shit about her, despite what he wanted to do seven years ago.

If any part of her still believes there is anything good in this asshole, she deserves to be able to hang onto that little flicker of hope. Not because he deserves it. But because she shouldn't have to spend the rest of her life knowing that her only parent left alive doesn't care about her in the least.

"So we should get to it," I mutter, ready to get him out of here before I really do find a reason to put my fist through his face. "Drake is stepping back from the company. With a baby on the way, his focus is elsewhere at the moment. I need someone to fill his role on the board. I'm interested in you."

"I'm honored, Jack," he says, pressing his hand to his fucking heart like I just asked him to a dance or something. "You know I've always held this company in high regard. Being able to serve on the board would be a true honor."

"I'm not an easy man to work with," I warn him. "You may hate me before all is said and done."

"Highly doubtful." He shoots me a smile that doesn't make me want to punch him any less. "Your people speak highly of you. You may expect a lot, but you give a lot in return."

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