Page 320 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

It may seem excessive, but I’ve got a 1957 Ferrari 250 Testa Rossa in there for crying out loud.

Helen gets the doors open, and I cruise into the only half-asleep streets of New York at three in the morning. Once I’m on the road, though, it doesn’t take nearly long enough to get to the office.

I pull the Aston into my work garage—which comes complete with a thick, lowering door more reinforced than the one over the vault at Fort Knox. I made sure of it.

From there, it’s only a minute on the elevator from the parking lot to the top floor. Malcolm is waiting for me.

“Let’s talk in your office,” he says.

I look around me. There’s no one in sight. Even the custodians have gone home for the night.

“Yeah,” I answer and unlock the door.

We get inside, and I close and lock the door behind us. Then I turn on the light.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“It’s Marly,” he says. “She’s giving them everything. Everything you’ve told me, she’s going to spill everything.”

“Let’s think about this rationally,” I say, though I’m not sure I’m capable of the feat, myself. “It’s not like I’ve broken any laws or even any ethical codes,” I tell Malcolm, even though I know it doesn’t matter in the slightest. “How bad is it going to be?”

“Bad,” he says. “Maybe it wouldn’t be an issue if things were going well here, but nobody knew why you wanted to move the company. I think when they find out—”

“I don’t think that would have gone over so well if I’d been upfront about it from the beginning,” I interrupt. “I already know the why. I’m asking how bad it’s going to be.”

“It doesn’t have to be, though,” Malcolm says. “There’s a way to avoid all of this and get the company back under your undisputed—”

“You know,” I interrupt, “when I was a kid, my dad wasn’t around all that much.”

Malcolm blinks.

“See, dad was a military man,” I continue. “He never quite made master sergeant, but he was with the Air Force until I was almost eighteen-years-old. He was a decent enough guy, I guess. There was just too much on his plate for him to spare much time.”

“Okay,” Malcolm says slowly, furrowing his brow. “Wait, there’s no Air Force base anywhere near Mulholland.”

“There isn’tanymore,” I tell him and go back to my story. “When dad had time to tell me something, I listened,” I go on. “One of the things he said a lot when I was growing up was ‘when someone’s telling you something that sounds too good to be true, give that person a solid kidney punch. They’re trying to sell you something.’”

It’s an interesting experience, watching Malcolm’s face. For a second, he smiles and nods his head. Now he understands why I was telling the story. The self-congratulation never lasts long, though.

Malcolm’s eyes are a bit wider than usual, and I can tell from the smacking sounds that his mouth has gone dry. I’m about to ask him if he needs some water when he pulls through whatever he’s feeling and says, “It’s not that bad.” He tells me, “You’re not going to like it, but just hear her out.”

“I was wondering when the puppet master was going to come from behind the curtain,” I mutter.

“Sir,” he says, “she’s down on the first floor. She can’t hear or see us, and if you don’t want to meet with her or even see her, you don’t have to, but—”

“No, that sounds good,” I interrupt. “No need for an alternate option. I’m sold.”

“… but,” Malcolm continues, looking quite small in the center of the office, “I think you should at least hear her out. She doesn’t have to be our enemy, but if you don’t at least talk to her, it’s happening tonight—this morning—whatever.”

“You’re doing a good job of working yourself out of your shiny new position,” I inform Malcolm. “If you’re just going to be her messenger, why not just replace you with her? She’s done the job already. If it weren’t for Marly starting the leak in the first place, I probably wouldn’t even remember your name. That seems like an experience I’d like to recreate,” I tell Malcolm.

“Just listen to her,” Malcolm says. “If you don’t like what she has to say, you can fire me afterward.”

“Why don’t I save some time and—”

“Justlistento her!” Malcolm shouts.

It’s silent as he stands there. His eyebrows are up a little, and he’s not quite able to keep his mouth all the way closed.

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