Page 8 of Fortress of the King

I’m a little out of my depth, but I control my outward emotions as I clutch my phone with brute force.

“Thanks, Ira. I’m at work, and something’s just come up, so I have to go. I’ll call you later.” I hang up on her quickly before she can respond.

My boss just heard more than I’d ever want him to know about me and witnessed me swearing like a sailor. If not for the slight twitch of his lips, I’d assume he was not one bit amused.

“Mr. Medici,” I start, instinctively apologizing like any good employee. “I’m sorry about that…”

He holds up a hand to stop me. “There’s no need.”

I curse myself. This is not what I wanted. Letting my private life into any of this is a mistake I can’t afford.

He definitely heard, and now I need to make a joke about my fuck wit ex.

“Ex-husband problems. They’re like a cheap suit that you just can’t get rid of no matter how hard you try.”

He watches me closely, like he’s some kind of serpent, assessing me before striking and devouring me whole. A slight brush of fear runs down my spine and I swallow hard.

Act the fucking part, Rayne, just like you know you can.

“That sounds troublesome. Need a better lawyer?” He lifts an eyebrow and then adds, “Or an undertaker?”

I think for a second that he may actually be serious. “Uh, no, thank you. My lawyer is amazing, really. My ex and I may be getting divorced, and I may want to staple things to his head, but I don’t wish him dead.”

He doesn’t seem impressed, like taking out my ex, Dane, would be the least of his problems.

I wish I didn’t notice that his scent fills the room, strong and spicy. His five o’clock shadow matches his dark mood. I wonder what it would look like if he ever smiled.

I know what he’s here for, nonetheless I have to make Angelo Medici work for it.

“Pity.” He glances at my computer, and it’s then I realize he’s probably looking at the spreadsheet I had up on the screen before I left for the bathroom. “You’re good with numbers.” It’s not a question.

“I’m a mathematical nerd at heart.” I shrug. “I earned my degree in finance but fell in love with art.” Also, not a lie.

He motions toward the empty seat across from my desk. “Won’t you take a seat?”

In my own fucking office? This jerk has some nerve.

I do as he says and fold my hands neatly in my lap. As I sit, I don’t miss his eyes raking down my body. “I feel like I’m in the principal’s office, and I’m in trouble,” I muse, looking across at him as he sits back in my chair.

Though the office is small, with him in it, it feels claustrophobic.

“On the contrary. I like to make sure all my new employees are settled in. After all, we like to keep a close, tight-knit family here at Fortress.” The lies that come out of his mouth should shock me, but nothing shocks me anymore. This is how far I’ve fallen.

Him and his fucking privileged life. Looking down from his throne at the rest of us while we beg for crumbs and grovel for scraps.

This is the last place I want to be.

I stare at him blankly for a moment, but he’s waiting for me to respond. “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Medici, considering how busy you must be.”

“You come highly regarded,” he goes on, like this is some job interview. “I can see why I pay Patricia so much when she finds such remarkable recruits.”

It’s like we’re talking about the stock exchange.

“Have you been checking up on me?” I give him a playful smile.

His lips twitch again. “I always do my research, Miss Michaelson. I’m nothing if not thorough in all things, but especially in my vested interests.”

Another lie, he didn’t know I was an employee until Claire told him as much, but I simply roll with it.

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