Page 91 of Pretty Little Threats

“I think you do. But trying to take my company from me is a mistake.” Pushing my hands into my pockets, I meander over to the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the city. There are only a few buildings taller than this onein the financial district, but none of them are as nice as the one Joseph built.

“So, this is what it’s like to be king,” I muse.

“I’m calling security,” he snarls.

“Go ahead.” I turn around. “I merely wanted to see what you looked like in your office one last time.”

His hand hovers over the phone. “Are you threatening me?”

“Oh, no, Joe. You’re the one who likes to kill people, right?”

The indignity drains from his face and is quickly replaced by a cold, calculating look. The change is so quick, so much like what Rose does, it throws me for a second.

“How’s Rosalynn?” he asks. “Are you enjoying fucking her?”

Does he hear himself? That’s his daughter, the sick fuck, but I don’t let him see how much his words bother me. After I nearly ripped his cock off, he may already suspect that I have feelings for her. Pretending not to care is the best way to keep Rose safe.

“She sucks my dick well enough,” I tell him, voice hard as stone. “But you and I both know she’s just a means to an end.”

“Is that so?”

Not at all, but he needs to believe the lie. “She’s disposable, like you.”

He scoffs. “And is this you threatening me?”

“You’ll know when I’m threatening you. For now, I’m having too much fun fucking your pretty little flower.” I smirk, even though I hate myself a little on the inside. “And I can’t wait to pluck her petals one by one until she’s as useless as your dead wife.”

Joseph shakes his head. “She would have made Eric Vanderbelt a happy man.”

And probably made Joseph millions in the process. That marriage was fucked up to begin with, and a tremor of anger rattles up my spine as the reminder of what Eric almost did flits through my mind. I hold myself in place, refusing to give Joseph anything to use against me.

“Too bad he fell overboard. Tragic, really.”

Joseph doesn’t react.

The lie Frank and Remy planted seems to be holding up. Another rich bachelor wandering off to fuck and frolic. There’s plenty of drinking and drugs on yachts, and given the currents of the ocean, it would be hard to find his body with how late his date, who also happens to be one of Remy’s employees, reported him missing.

I look at him one more time, noting the wrinkles and the dark circles under his eyes. Joseph looks tired. “So, you are human after all,” I murmur, more to myself than him, and leave.

All men die.

twenty-nine

ROSE

Throughout my life,I’ve been to countless holiday parties for various companies. I’ve waltzed on a hundred dance floors, wearing that carefully crafted smile to appease the oily business people who wanted to win my dad’s favor.

But it’s different this time.

Dare glances at me in the elevator. We’re alone on the ride up to the sixtieth floor. His gaze sweeps over the simple but elegant mermaid gown. The dusky pink color complements my skin tone, and the smoky eyeshadow brings out the lighter notes of color in my hazel eyes. My brunette locks are lightly curled, hanging long and loose and sleek. If I were with my dad, this outfit never would have worked. The dress is too tight. There’s too much cleavage. There’s far too much softness on display.

And lest I ever forget, Millers aren’t soft.

I brace for Dare’s judgment. To tell me I should’ve wornsomething less sexy. To question my choices. For him to tell me how to act and who to target.

But the beast simply lifts his gaze to meet mine, unmistakable hunger darkening his irises. “Who do you belong to?”

“No one.”

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