Page 48 of Bitter Desire
“I’ll start with your holdings, then move on to your fathers, and then your family. The whole fucking thing.”
“What do-”
“And I’ll scatter it all to the ends of the goddamn earth. I’ll take it and sell it all at a loss. Your father’s investment firm? O’Hanon and Sons? Done. Been in business for a hundred years in this fucking city and I’ll rip it out at the roots in a week. You want to see that?”
Christian’s fear gave way to worry. “It was just texts.”
I came closer to him until there was only a few inches between us. I let my eyes move slowly over him, sizing him up, and when I looked at him again he knew I had found him pathetic and wanting. This fucker couldn’t handle himself in a boardroom, let alone the streets. We both knew it. “Where’s the Texas number from? Why’d you use that one?”
“I didn’t. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” That was the truth. Interesting.
“So you only texted from the New York number?”
“How’d you get that one? It was encrypted and the guy that showed me how said that no one would be able to track it an-”
“You know who I am, right?”
He tried to draw himself up to his full height, defiance coming to his eyes as he tossed his head back. “I’ve heard.” The fucker was trying to look tough. Fuck that.
I backhanded him.
He yelled, falling back a foot, staggering with his hand raised to his face. “Are you crazy? What the fuck are-”
I slapped him again, the sharp crack of my hand hitting his face deafening in the room. I knew Love heard it from the sudden scramble of feet I heard running away from the closed door. A second later the front door slammed. Good. She needed to get away from this fucker anyway.
“If you knew who I was, then you’d know not to fuck with me,” I snarled, pointing a finger at him. Blood was coming from his mouth, and he was spluttering, the red of it dripping onto his dress shirt. The sight of it making me want to do more than slap him. “I should kill you for what you did to her. For the goddamn stress you put on her with your texts. She’s not yours, she doesn't exist to you, you are done even thinking about her.”
Christian shook his head and skirted the room, putting his desk between us. Cute. He thought that would stop me if I wanted to get at him. “You don’t know what you’re doing. She’s not even yours.”
“The fuck you said?” I took a step towards him and he jerked back, hitting the bookcase behind him and sending the items on its shelves crashing to the floor.
“She’s not yours.”
“Then whose is she?” I asked. “Because I know it fucking isn’t you.”
He laughed, a bitter sound that was quick and short. “She’s not mine.”
“Then whose?”
Christian wiped the blood from his mouth and sucked in a breath. “I’d tell you but I’m more scared of him than you.”
Chapter Nineteen
HONEY
Law was gone and I was bored as hell. Not being allowed to work was...interesting. I’d always thought I’d love to have my days to do nothing but after being on the go for years having nothing to do was pretty boring. I shifted on the couch and looked out the windows at the beautiful cityscape below. New York City sparkled and gleamed when you were as far above it as I was, making the whole thing look like a gem.
The city was beautiful. It always was, no matter where you were or how you looked at it, even if you had to look hard to find the beauty sometimes depending on if you were on the rise or on the back end of good. Right now I was on the rise, and it was easy to see the good, the plenty and the ease of the city.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t bored.
A ping on my phone had me tensing but I forced myself to reach forward and snag my phone off the coffee table in front of me. I’d set up camp in the living room not long after Law had left and now there were books and half done drawings, Chinese takeout I’d been picking at all afternoon, and the list of movies I’d told him I wanted to watch—most of them Disney. My phone had been buried beneath a drawing and I sighed in relief when I shoved the paper off and saw a notification from my bank on the screen. I could do a notification.
Texts not so much right now, but a bank statement? That was easy.
I tapped on the screen expecting to see my weekly deposit from BaristApp hitting my account but what I saw instead was a deposit that had too many fucking zero’s to be any paycheck that I had ever earned.
“What the fuck?” I whispered, staring down at my phone. Five hundred thousand dollars had been deposited in my account that afternoon. It had to be a mistake. A glitch in the app that added the insane amount of money to my paycheck. It had to be something in the app, which meant I was going to have to give it back. That sucked, but it was better than getting my hopes up and spending it. I’d have to give it back. I frowned and tapped on the bank deposit information. I’d have to gather as much information as possible if I was going to call the bank and get this straightened out.
