Page 186 of One Bossy Disaster

With my arms folded, I turn my attention to Mark, whose jaw works tightly. His fists are clenched. I know the look of a man who’s trying like mad to come up with believable lies to save his skin.

“Is it true?” I ask blankly.

He stays deathly quiet.

“Answer Mr. Foster, please,” Hannah says, her voice as frigid as mine. “There’s no point in lying, Mr. Cantor. I practically caught you red-handed.”

Finally, he looks up, his eyes narrowed, staring straight at me.

“Fine, fine,” he snaps. “Yeah, I did it. I took the drone. I also got access to Hannah’s schedule book, so I knew exactly where you were. I traced the route from Destiny’s pictures. I followed you with the drone. I took the pictures. There, happy?”

Not while this little punk is still breathing.

“And then?” Hannah presses.

Mark hesitates, his mouth twisting until he sighs.

“Then... then I sold them to Adriana Cerva.” For the first time, he grins like he’s proud of himself. “If you want me to say I’m sorry, I won’t. Honestly, people like you deserve to be dragged through the mud. Greedy billionaire pricks, hoarding your money and handing out the easy rewards to girls you want to bang. You leave the scraps to guys like me, barely enough to make a damn living in this city. And dude, I know she’s pretty, but she’s almost young enough to be yourdaughter.”

My fist feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as I strain to hold it back from caving his face in.

“You done, little man?” I grind out.

He nods.

“Just so I understand, you decided to slink around like a coward and help soulless assholes spin rumors because you feel entitled to my money? Mylife?Is that it?”

His face wrinkles with jealousy again.

“What did you even do to deserve it, Foster? I’m glad I took those photos.” He steps back and throws his hands up. “Fuck it, I should’ve done more. Ruined you forever, and that stupid girl, too. She’s another Insta-slut, using her looks for favors. Sleeping with you to get ahead.”

He’s visibly shaking now. It’s a whimper against the hurricane in my blood.

“You done?” I growl again.

“No. She pretends to be all sweet, but I know better. For a rich guy, you’re pretty oblivious. She’s a Lancaster. She’s never worked an honest day in her life.”

The bullshit he’s spewing sends rage charging through me, but I don’t need to do anything to him. He’s incriminating himself perfectly well without my help.

Hannah gives me a knowing look. I already know she has everything documented and she’s probably crawling out of her skin to play witness.

“Anything else you want to add, Cantor?” I demand.

“Yeah—fuck you! I hope you die alone of stomach cancer in a sewer. Always acting like you’re better than us, thanme.”

Entitled little shit.

He can’t even come up with decent insults.

“I think that should do it,” Hannah says flatly. “Washington is a two-party consent state, meaning we can’t directly record this conversation without his permission. However, every employee agrees to corporate security terms when they accept any position here. That includes consenting to anything captured by the security cameras in this hallway.”

It’s almost too good.

The way he’s damned himself dawns on his face with a delightful slowness as it slowly sinks in. He’s just shot his own legs off.

“A little friendly advice.” I fold my arms, staring him down. “If you’re going to lose your temper like a ten-year-old, don’t do it in front of people who can bury you alive.”

He’s flushed red and speechless, his mouth moving like a fish out of water.

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