Page 83 of Brassy Bigwig

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

DIMITRIOS

The past week has been one of the most stressful weeks of my life. It’s agony, watching Chloe worry, and not being able to make this pathetic piece of shit go away. We haven’t received any more communication from Blake, and honestly, I think Chloe would feel better if we had. She’s been jumpy and on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since we found that letter in my mailbox.

I’ve been communicating with a PI named Travis who was recommended to me by several business partners. Supposedly, he’s the best at what he does. I sent him all the information I have on Blake so far, which really isn’t much. Unfortunately, he’s wrapped up in the middle of another assignment and hasn’t gotten back to me with anything yet.

The owner of Rapid Flyers wasn’t any help, either. I asked for a copy of the courier request and whether or not he had camera footage I could view. He didn’t care that his company was responsible for sending threatening letters from a known, violent stalker. His only response was some bullshit about respecting the privacy of his clients. I think it’s obvious why Blake chose to work with this particular company. Chloe had to talk me down from going over there and beating him senseless.

I don’t like when Chloe goes home each evening. I’m left in fear for her and wondering if that nut job is going to break into her apartment again. The only thing that brings me any peace of mind is knowing they have the cameras in place.

I would drop everything to move her into the penthouse with me this second, but I can’t in good conscience ask her to do that before she knows about Emilia. I need to figure out what I’m going to say to Chloe. And I need to put a stop to Emilia’s calls before shit gets out, and Chloe finds out about her before I’m able to explain.

The ding of the elevator pulls me from my spiral. Glancing at my watch, I realize what time it is.

1:13 P.M.

Mail time.

Every day since the first letter was delivered, I’ve made sure I was the one to receive the mail. Chloe has assured me over and over she can handle it, and I know she can, but the protector in me has been unleashed. Until we get this motherfucker out of our lives for good, I want to be the first line of defense, protecting Chloe from any and all dangers to her. Physically, mentally, or otherwise.

Exiting my office, I cut Sean off on his path to Chloe’s desk.

“I’ll take the mail.” I stand in the way of the cart as he tries to pass by.

He looks over my shoulder toward Chloe as I squeeze my hand into a fist, trying to quell the annoyance he brings me.

“Sure, Mr. Andino.” He hands me the stack of envelopes and junk mail before speaking again. “Hi, Chloe.”

“Hi, Sean. Have a nice day.” She dismisses him knowing the longer he’s here, the more I begin to lose control of my anger.

It’s selfish of me to make her worry about my actions, but I am who I am, and there’s no changing that at this point in my life.

“You too,” he smiles before turning his cart around and walking back to the elevator.

As I walk toward Chloe’s desk, my eyes meet hers. Her cocked eyebrow is all I need to see to know I’m not hiding my irritation very well.

“He’s harmless,” she quietly tells me.

“Well, I’m not. Especially not while there is a psycho out there threatening you. I don’t trust anyone. Nor do I want anyone anywhere near you.”

After pinning her with my stare, I begin to sort through the stack of mail in my hands. When my eyes land on a white envelope with “Chloe Gainesworth” written in the same scraggly handwriting on it as the first two, I see red. Letting everything else drop to the ground at my feet, I tear open the offending letter.

“What does it say?” Chloe stands from her chair immediately and joins me at my side.

I MISS THE SWEET SMELL OF YOUR SKIN

AND THE WARMTH OF YOUR GAZE

YOUR EYES BELONG ON ME CHLOE

NOT HIM

DO YOU THINK OF ME WHEN YOU FUCK HIM

IT MAKES ME ANGRY EVEN THINKING ABOUT IT

SOMETIMES I GET VIOLENT

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