Page 9 of Ruthless Beast

“You know I prefer to keep my personal life separate from work.”

“I respect that. Remember, though, that if anyone gives you shit about your choices, I’ll be sure to clean their clocks with pleasure.”

“You’re a good friend, Lucas.”

“Right. Time to mingle.”

“Is that code for snooping?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Go get ‘em, Boss.”

I make my way to the bar, where a group of guys are chatting away. One of the benefits of working yourself up through the ranks is that you gain excellent working knowledge of those around you.

I will now keep an eye on the ones I know are prone to fucking up. I haven’t made too many changes since taking over from Geroge, but I have no issue with culling if it’s necessary.

I spot David, so I make my way over to him. I don’t ask him about Emily, even though the image of her beautiful face is burned onto my retinas. I wonder if she’s as stunning in the flesh as she is in photos.

Focus, Lucas.

“Hi, David. I’m glad you could make it. Are you alone?”

“Hello. Yes, I’m afraid my date dropped me at the last minute.”

“Woman, hey. What can you do?”

“Pretty little puzzles.”

Oh, screw it. I have to dip my toe in forbidden waters.

“I understand you have a younger sister. An artist.”

“Yeah. Emily.”

“I respect the fact that you cared for her after your parents died, David. That says a lot about your character.”

I wonder if this conversation is appropriate. Most men who work in my industry prefer to keep their families out of it. I hope David doesn’t think I’m meddling. Or worse, I hope he doesn’t see through the gossamer veneer and spot a man commenting on matters that don’t concern him. Matters like a very hot sister.

“That’s kind of you to say, Lucas. It’s been a challenging journey, alright.”

“”Your parents would be proud of your commitment.”

I decide to change the subject before I put my foot in it and focus on something less personal and more business-like.

It’s after 11 p.m. when the last of the stragglers leave. All in all, it was a successful party with just the right amount of ass kissing on the part of my employees. I don’t suffer fools and suck-ups lightly. Say what you mean and do as you say, and you’ll go far with me.

It’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. If only I could fall asleep. My mind is preoccupied with all sorts of things. Mostly, I’m thinking of my future. George made life very difficult for himself and those around him. He was far too reactive for a Mafia Don. I’m amazed that he lived to his ripe old age. I always thought his odds of dying young and brutally were substantially high. But apparently, he had nine lives.

I close my eyes. It’s quiet. I like quiet. LA can be a very busy place, which is why I live out in the mountains. I bought an old place and revamped it. I have everything I need out here. A gym, a squash court, an indoor Olympic size swimming pool, and as many mountain trails as my legs can carry me along.

My thoughts head in an unintended direction. Emily Thornton. There’s no point in trying to fight this. I’m intrigued. I haven’t felt this way in a long time, so I’m just going to go with it. What’s the worst that can happen?

3

EMILY

What is that noise? I’m somewhere between asleep and awake. Is that my phone ringing? I open one eye and look around the darkened room. What’s the time? I feel for the phone on the nightstand and look at the time on the face before answering the call. 4 a.m!

---