Page 20 of The Orc of Wall Street

“Listen, rich boy,” I hiss in a low voice so as not to attract attention. “I know you’re used to snapping your fingers and having everything delivered to you on a silver platter, but this isn’t that simple. I didn’t buy my way into becoming the best thief in the game, I earned it.”

I glare at him, my gaze so hot I half expect it to burn a hole in his chest. “For over ten years, I scrounged and scraped and took jobs no one else would, just to become the very best. I went from being a nobody pickpocket who had nowhere else to go in the world to being the Siphon aka Cyber Thief. So I’d watch your damn mouth next time you question me. I’m not going to let some rich prick who has it all tell me how to do my job.”

Tarek’s eyes fill with so much rage I almost expect him to flip the table over. But instead, he leans over and talks in a deathly quiet voice.

“Oh, you think I’ve always had it easy? Well, guess what? You’re not the only one who scraped and scrounged to get what they wanted. I was a poor kid with a head for business, but no one was going to just give it to me because I wanted it. No. I had to deal with rich pricks, as you said, who constantly kept trying to bump me out of the game because I wasn’t one of them.”

He points a thick green finger in my direction. “I had to be more cunning, more ambitious, and more ruthless if I wanted to even stay in the game,” he continues harshly. “And I was. And now I have one of the biggest companies in town that everyone looks to for an idea of the future.”

He narrows his eyes. “I may not be a master thief like you, but don’t presume you know me, either. So yeah, I’m going to question you because I’m not about to lose everything I worked so hard to create.”

For a minute, I’m just left stunned. I hadn’t known that about him. Most of my research on him had been focused on his career. Everything about him screams rich man who doesn’t give a damn. It is a little jarring to hear that he actually came from a not-so-upstart beginning.

Tarek seems to realize how passionate he is getting and clears his throat. We both look away uncomfortably.

After a moment of silence, I glance at him again. He’s really built up everything he has from nothing?

People dream of building what he has yet few succeed. And if they do, it is usually because they have the money and connections to do it. They don't deserve it more than anyone else – they just started a lot closer to the finish line.

The fact that maybe he did this the really hard way, all on his own, puts him in a different light suddenly.

“You’ve been doing this sort of thing for ten years?” His voice startles me out of my thoughts. He lifts his eyes to meet mine.

“Yes. Well, not this exactly. I didn’t exactly start out trying to take down big companies. I was just a girl who realized that I was smart enough and sneaky enough to steal right out from people’s noses.”

“And you decided to make a career out of it?” he ventures.

I shrug, then wipe my hands on my dress despite where we are. His clever gaze falls to my plate, and I know he’s wondering what I’m doing beneath the restaurant's gold and silver tablecloth. His lips thin, and I wonder if he’s trying to stifle a smile.

I keep my posture from stiffening and slowly pull my hands out of my lap. It’s sweaty in here, that’s all, I think to soothe myself, taking the napkin I’ve been ignoring on the table and placing it into my lap.

“Why not?” I blurt out, avoiding his curious expression. “I love the thrill of being able to completely blindside whoever I want. To take whatever I want.”

His brows furrow, and I can see him about to ask more questions I don’t want to answer. So I ask one instead. “So, what happened to all those rich pricks who stood in your way?”

A vicious smile forms on his lips. “I learned to become the ideal, suave-talking businessman. Then I ran them out of business, took their investors, and became richer than all of them.”

Tarek may not be a thief or spy, but there’s a ferocity to him I can admire greatly. I raise my glass. “To being the best and taking down the bastards that get in our way.”

He chuckles and toasts his glass with mine. We drink and then a solemn expression comes over Tarek’s face. I raise a brow. “What?”

“I’ll trust your judgment until you prove that it can’t be trusted,” he says simply. “Deal?”

I huff. “Of course, you should trust my judgment. Don’t you know who you’re dealing with?”

He rolls his eyes. “This is an olive branch, Sloane. Take it.”

“Fine.” I give him a coy smile. “And in return, I’ll try not to insult you as much as long as you don’t deserve it.”

“Deal.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Craig and another person walk towards their table. “They’re here,” I murmur.

From where I’m sitting, I have a direct line of sight to them, while Tarek would have to turn around.

Craig and the mystery man move to sit down, though nothing about his guest looks familiar. It’s definitely not Lewis or Gage.

But then I catch sight of the man’s face, and my blood runs cold.

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