Page 1 of Blackmail
Chapter
One
SEBASTIAN
My sperm donor believed the entire world was out to get him. His paranoia eventually led to his death. Years later, I’m convinced someone is out to get me. Am I developing the same delusions, or am I actually correct?
All I know is, there’s a storm coming. I feel it in my gut.
Residents of my luxury beachfront condo building edge out of my way as I storm through the lobby, takeout bag and coffee-stained jacket in one hand and my phone clenched in the other. Two women pushing strollers glare as I pass. One calls me an asshole under their breath.
She’s not wrong. People call me Bastard behind my back for a reason. By the time I reach my floor, I’m ready to take it out on the next person who pisses me off.
Which, right now, is looking like my business partner, Lehman, who most certainly regrets calling me on my way home. “Bas, there’s nothing more to be done right now. Just get some damn rest for a change. Anything high priority happens, I’ll let you know.”
He sounds as exhausted as I feel. Or as exhausted as I’ll feel once the adrenaline I’ve been riding wears off.
“I just need to change clothes. I’ll be back in?—”
“I called to tell you not to bother coming back to the office. It’s after nine on a Thursday night. You’ve already scared the crap out of Agatha. Take a damn break before we lose employees.”
“She’s the one who spilled hot coffee down the front of my suit.” To be fair, she’d caught me by surprise. It wasn’t my intention to frighten her.
I’m not a total monster.
“It was an accident.” Lehman insists. “Everyone’s jumpy as fuck right now.”
“Heya, Mr. Pierce.”
I turn to find the source of the voice behind me and come face-to-face with Jacob from 32B. He’s a few inches shorter at sixteen than my six feet of height, and clearly not done growing. Right now, he’s mostly knees and elbows. Painfully thin. His stepfather, one of the biggest private equity assholes in Belle Argo, Florida, seems too damn busy to remember he even has a kid, let alone feed him.
The kid has a knack for popping up when I’m in the hallway. Perhaps he’s lonely. Or bored.
“Lehman, I’ll call you back.”
“Please don’t,” he chirps before hanging up.
Jacob shuffles awkwardly. “Uh, sorry to interrupt your call, Mr. Pierce. I wondered if you’d want to game with me since you’re home early. I’ve got the new Call of Duty. Or maybe blackjack? You said you’d teach me next time you finished work early.”
He’s got a deck of playing cards in his hand. I hadn’t noticed until now. Shit.
“I can’t tonight. It’s easy to learn, though. Probably a million blackjack tutorials online.” It’s a nice ego boost the way that Jacob looks at me like I’m some kind of hero. Tonight, though? I’m in no mood.
The kid looks down at the floor. “Right. You’re right. I shouldn’t be bothering you when you’re so busy. I don’t know why I didn’t think to look it up online. That was stupid.”
Dammit. Sometimes, I really earn my nickname. “Not stupid.” I gesture to my coffee-stained suit. “It’s been a hell of a day. I need a shower. My business partner’s been on me to take some time off, though.” Lehman threatened to call security when I lost my temper with the staff. “I’ll probably be around more this weekend. How about I stop by?”
The kid manages a small smile. “That’d be great. Thanks, Mr. Pierce.”
“No sweat.” The kid still looks miserable, so I tack on: “Kind of messed up when not getting home until nine is considered early, huh?”
I’d been aiming for a laugh, but Jacob only shrugs. “My stepdad’s been at work since yesterday morning.”
Jesus.
I shove the takeout in my hand at him. “Here. Leftovers. Pad Thai and spring rolls from Café Lemongrass. Help me finish them off.”
“Are you sure these are leftovers?” Jacob frowns into the bag. “Everything still has the little stickers they use to keep the containers closed.”
