Page 67 of Crushed
“Regret what?” I growled.
She crossed her arms. “It’s none of your business.”
I let her go. She stumbled back on her feet. My phone buzzed; a message from one of the staff members:Scott Warden is here to see you. In the study, sir.
“We’ll figure this out later,” I muttered and headed to the study. I had the vague sense that Scarlett was following me, but I knew the staff wouldn’t let her into the study once I shut the doors.
Books covered the walls, two large couches were in the middle, facing each other. A wet bar was displayed in the corner. Scarlett’s footsteps pattered behind me, but I closed the doors, listening to the lock click into place, shutting her out. Warden was holding his face in his tanned fingers, the short black hair thick on his head. When he saw me, he immediately stood.
“Stone, we have to talk about this,” he said. “We’re sensible men. TSP is not—”
“TSP is not your company anymore,” I said. The silence carried between the walls. I went to the bar without glancing at Warden. “You know that by now.”
I retrieved two glasses and added ice with tongs. After pouring a substantial amount of scotch in both, I broke a capsule above one of the glasses, letting the powder fall into the drink. It instantly dissolved, but I tilted the glass, swirling the contents anyway. The ice would help mask the taste.
And if the pill didn’t work, I had a gun hidden inside one of the books.
I handed Warden the glass with the powder, and kept the other. I lifted my chin.
“Let’s get to know each other,” I said, mockingly. “Without the fuss of Decadence.” I held up my glass. “To new beginnings.”
A subtle shake crossed Warden’s forehead, but he clinked glasses with me and took a sip. After a few seconds passed, he tilted the glass back and drank it all.
And to think, I had been ready to get my gun.
“Another?” I asked, raising a brow.
“You lied to the board.”
Ah, how anxious he was to get on with it. I had been that way once. “Did I?” I asked, thumbing the condensation on the sides of my glass. “I think the records would show otherwise.”
“You lied to get the majority share. I have proof. I didn’t steal company funds to go to Decadence.” He raised his hands. “I was invited, like everyone else. Like you were! You and I both know that that’s the only way to get into the event.”
“But I didn’t say you used funds to attend. I said that you were using fundsforDecadence Revelry. Perhaps you were funding the event itself. A large sum paid in your name. I’m sure the records of such a payment are there, somewhere.” A smile gleamed on my lips. These conversations were always satisfying. I already had a team creating the false paper trail to back up my allegations.
Warden shook his head. “I don’t believe you. And none of them believe you either. I don’t know what your game is, what ammo you have hidden, but—”
He grabbed his chest, clutching the left side. The pain seized him. He collapsed, falling to his knees. Wheezing breaths came out of his mouth. Sweat gathered on his brow.
“What’s happening?” he whispered.
He closed his eyes. I stepped closer. He writhed for a few minutes like that, flailing and gasping. In the morning, Warden would be back at his house, and reports would indicate that he had died of natural causes. A heart attack induced by stress. Scott was a physically fit man, but his family, friends, and associates knew that he indulged in the many pleasures of life: women, alcohol, drugs. Perhaps his heart couldn’t take it anymore. Not with the added stress of losing his pet project, his baby.
But I would never lose my child, even if it meant taking another person’s life.
His wheezing was suddenly quiet. I stepped over his body and headed to the door. I texted the security lead,Take care of the business in the study.
Warden was leaving behind a wife. I wasn’t sure if he had other family, but I wasn’t remorseful. I had given him a chance to take my offer, time and time again, coaxing him with better offers to make the deal one he could not refuse. And still, his pride got the best of him. He had chosen this path.
When I opened the doors, Scarlett was standing there. She peered inside.
“Where’s—”
I closed the doors behind me, the locks shutting tight.
Her eyes widened, her mouth agape. “What did you do to him?”
“What needed to be done,” I said. I walked past her, making my way to the stairs and going to the bedroom.
