Page 12 of Degrading Her

“I want to offer you a job,” I said. “Your sister said you’re a librarian.” At those words, Fiona’s cheeks darkened to a delicious shade of apple red. I had used those words on purpose; she was still studying for her master’s degree, which meant she was technicallynota librarian yet. But stroking her ego like this was part of my method. “I need a personal research assistant to handle some of our business’s tougher cases.”

“Don’t you own a farm?”

My brother’s wife hadn’t told her sister, then. Good. Maisie wasn’t my favorite, but I trusted her not to expose us. She was as deep as we were now.

Little did Fiona know, the cattle farming was a cover.

“Yes,” I said, my jaw tight, “But we have several companies we collaborate with to expand our hold in the international market.”

She raised her brow. Innocent, but not stupid. She knew a smaller farm like ours rarely worked like that.

“That’s not my area of expertise,” she said.

“Librarians are some of the best information technologists.” I tilted my head. “Research is research, is it not?”

She took a long sip of her champagne, her second glass. Her eyes flicked behind me to a server carrying a tray full of flutes, and for a moment, I considered putting the rest of her glass on the tray to see what she did.

But it wasn’t time for that.

“I have a job,” she said.

“I’ll double your pay grade.”

“You don’t know my salary.”

I knew she was an hourly employee. Besides, we had the money, and I wanted her. I adjusted my gold cufflinks.

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “I’ll double it.”

She pressed her lips together. “Thank you, but I’m not interested.”

I had known that it would come to this. Even if it meant twice the pay, she was far too proud to be someone’s personal assistant. Her fingers pinched the flute’s neck.

“Enjoying the special occasion?” I asked.

Her shoulders tensed. “What?”

I nodded at her glass. “You don’t normally drink.”

“Yes, I do,” she lied.

She stared straight into my eyes, leveling with me. Fiona was an obsession that had lasted for years. I couldn’t have her until my father was dead, but now that he was gone and the Feldman Offering was officially dissolved, I could finally destroy her. It was one thing to kill a person, but to pull them apart until their entire life was wholly dedicated to pleasing you?Thattook true skills.

Fiona downed the rest of her champagne.Go ahead, little rebel,I thought, chuckling to myself.Drink your drink. Hide behind your nerves. I’m still waiting for you.

“I’m going to get another,” she said, a hint of fire in her tone. “Nice to meet you.”

She crossed the room to the farthest server possible. I glanced at the side doors to the pool. The celebratory couple was still out there, so I kept my eyes on the doorsandon Fiona, making sure everything stayed in place.

Norman Roth, the current owner of Hatchcom Focus settled in with a drink. I met him at his table and shook his hand. Shaved head. Thick eyebrows. A cleft chin. Though the previous owner had worked as a soldier while forming the company, Roth had taken ownership without any combat experience. And yet his business expertise was how the company had thrived.

Just like I had transformed the Feldman Farm.

“Glad you could make it,” I said.

“I met your brother a while ago,” he said. “Interesting fellow.”

“He’s one of our lead ranchers.”

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