Page 4 of Fortress of the King

Her chest hitches just ever so slightly.“That would be lovely, thank you, Mr. Medici.” The way my name rolls off her tongue sounds seductive, sensual, and forbidden coming from the lips of an angel. Like she’s taunting me with every moment, and like she’s completely unaware of the war inside me.

So, she is affected by me. That’s no surprise, really, most women are, but it’s just a face.

My eyes have a dusky blue-gray tinge, depending on my mood. I’ve been told they resemble bottomless pits.

Merciless and ruthless.

The eyes are indeed the windows to the soul, and mine are a never-ending guilt-less, brutal abyss.

I savor the moment because life’s pleasures, like the one unfolding, come rarely. I’m going to fucking enjoy it.

What the fuck is in this coffee?

I let my fingers linger far too long on her skin, and I indulge in the thought of what it would be like to take her with my mouth… It’s then I realize I’m still touching her. I also know what I do to women when I look at them like they’re my next meal, but she keeps her guard well-fortified. It’s even more impressive.

Shut this down, Angelo. She’s trouble.

But I like trouble. I devour trouble. I enjoy chasing trouble until it can no longer haunt me.

“Well, Mr. Medici,” Claire says, clearing her throat. “We best be going; we don’t want to keep Trish waiting.”

That irritates me because I despise how people shorten names, especially those whom you work for.

I tear my gaze away and reluctantly look back at Claire, giving her a curt nod.

She does not seem impressed by our little exchange, not one bit.

I stamp down my errant thoughts while also noting to text Gus, my driver and go-to guy for everything, to find out all we know about her.

If I interrogate Patricia, she’ll only give me that look that tells me I’m playing with fire.

I also don’t wish to sit here making small talk with Clairewhat’s-her-face,either. I’d rather stab myself in the eye with a pencil.

She needs to gonow.

“Until we meet again,” I say towards Rayne, but it’s more like a promise. I turn back to my paper, like the exchange never even occurred.

I haven’t been laid in almost five days. That’s what it is.

I glance at her retreating figure as they continue down the sidewalk.

I dial Gus.

“Boss?” he answers on the second ring.

“I need to know everything we have on a new employee by the name of Rayne Michaelson, as a matter of urgency. She just started at Fortress Galleries.”

“I’ll get you a full brief by the end of today.”

I down the last of my, now cold, coffee and wince. “You sound chipper.”

“Could say the same about you.”

I snort. “Just get me the fucking file. You’ve got two hours.”

I hang up and smile as I fold my paper back together.

I’ll know all about you soon, pretty one, then I’ll make my move.

I’ll have all the ammunition I need, and then I’ll do what I do best; take what I want without any mercy.

Just the thought of her…

No good can come of any of this, but when has that ever stopped me?

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