Page 179 of The Billionaire Boss and the Barista

She frowned. “I thought Elias said he was going to handle it.”

That’s what her husband had told her earlier.

Fletcher’s eye twitched. “No, that’s wrong. Ian handles logistics.”

“But–”

“It’sIan,” he snapped, his face hardening. “Ian does all the tech stuff.”

Emma’s lips parted, all the blood leaving her extremities, street racing to her heart which began to pound out of control.

When Auric was brand new, Ianwasin charge of their technical division. But he had long since turned things over to Toya Almari, a security specialist who could make computer code sing and dance like a badass black pied piper.

But Fletcher wasn’t friends with the Auric men. They were polite to him, but not enough to make him privy to the inner workings of their company.

Toya didn’t like parties, preferring smaller, more intimate gatherings. The only reason Emma had met her was because she’d been to dinner at Elias’ house.

Contradicting Fletcher at this point would have been incredibly stupid. She pasted a smile on her face.

“Okay. My mistake,” she said, grateful that her voice was even. “I’ll just leave you to it.”

Emma had taken two steps back when Fletcher swore and hung his head. When he looked up, the wrongness in his eyes had grown, the black eating at his icy-blue irises like an oil spill in the arctic.

She needed to get the hell out of here. Now.

Chapter Sixty-Nine

EMMA

She turned to run, but it was too late. Fletcher hurled the case at her head.

Yelping, Emma lifted her hands, her palm slapping it out of the air by sheer chance. It struck her thigh as she twisted to run, sending it flying in front of her.

The case bounced off the doorway, ricocheting out of the room. The case spun on the hardwood floor, sliding down the hallway like a hockey puck.

She stopped, gaping at it. Emma looked back long enough to register that Fletcher was wearing a similar one, disbelief twisting his normally placid features into a grotesque caricature.

Slowly, they both turned to look at the case, then back at each other.

Emma broke her stupor, snatching it up by the handle and running flat out to the living room.

She managed to clear the hallway when the pounding behind her turned into a blow. Her body went flying, tumbling down the two steps into the sunken living room.

Her face smashed against the floor before the rest of her body.

Stunned, Emma lost her grip on the case. It went flying under thecoffee table. Every muscle in her body froze, tensing up to protect her after the fact.

It was only a second, but that was long enough for Fletcher to catch up. But the man spent his days behind a desk. He wasn’t as physically gifted as Garrett or the rest of his circle. Unable to check his momentum, he ended up tripping over her, his foot connecting with her ankle.

He might as well have kicked her. Emma groaned, scrambling to her feet, the pain in her ankle radiating up her foot.

Forget the damn case.She had to get out of there.

Emma took a few steps, wincing when her injured ankle threatened to give out on her.

Fletcher grabbed her leg, his hand a vise. Emma cried out, twisting to kick him away with her good foot. But her kick went wild. She lost her balance, landing on the floor on her butt.

Then he was on her, grabbing at her hands and using his body weight to press her into the floor.

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