Page 1 of The Fixer

Chapter One

Scrollingthroughtheendlessbids on my phone, I tipped the mimosa, swallowing the bitterness I felt. A waiter approached to refill the glass but hesitated as a soft groan left my lips. The growing list of people seeking to hire me was all the same. Insanely rich, spoiled prats, wanting me to fix their self-made issues. Of course, it was something I was used to, since I was the one who fixed the lives and careers of the elite. I’m also the one the rich and powerful come to when their worlds crumble. That was where I came in. I took their messes and cleaned them up. I fixed the problems and eradicated any trace of the dirt connected to their names.

“May I refill your glass, ma’am?” the waiter asked in a subdued tone.

“Please,” I answered and returned my focus to the endless list of employment offers awaiting my answer. “Thank you, Max.”

“Anything else I can get you, Chevelle?” he inquired, slowly lifting his head as a commotion rippled through the room.

I turned as a group of armed men descended on the prestige restaurant. Grabbing my drink, I sipped it slowly, as if nothing were amiss. Shifting focus, I noted the high-capacity weapons and the finely tailored suits the men wore. Someone had perfectly tailored them to each man’s build. Handcrafted hessian wool with two buttons gave away the designer. Dior and their love for men’s strong, powerful physiques being wrapped in their elegant suits always caught my undivided attention. Mostly, it held my heart, which was attached to my vagina, but that was neither here nor there.

“Out, everyone,” the largest, most abrasive-looking fellow ordered. When I stood to leave, his dark stare landed on me, pinning me in place. “Not you, Miss Reed. Sit down.”

I fixed him with a withering stare as I pondered my choices. Obviously, he knew who I was, which also meant he knew what I could do to him and his employer. Few people knew where I ate or frequented during the days when I wasn’t fixing the lives of those who enjoyed mucking shit up. So, that this man knew where I’d be at this hour spoke of his Intel, or connections.

Once the club cleared of the whining wives of the stupidly rich, the men began sweeping for bugs and hidden cameras throughout the club’s interior. The lights dimmed, and the sound of footsteps moving over wooden flooring behind me sent a shiver racing through me, inching down my spine.

“I didn’t take you for the type of woman who drank mimosas, Miss Reed.” The voice was smooth like whiskey, with a hint of smoke in the undertone.

“And what, pray tell, did you imagine I drank in my leisure time?” I returned softly, pushing the loose strands of two-toned champagne-blonde and auburn hair away from my face. Tucking them behind my ear, I peered down at the expensive Italian boots I could see from the corner of my eye.

“Whiskey or something much stronger, of course.” The man chuckled wickedly. “Considering the hardened, frosty façade you present to your adversaries, I’d expect nothing else.”

Licking my lips as the taste of raspberries danced over my taste buds, I racked my mind for where I’d heard his voice before. It was familiar, but I couldn’t place it or put a name to the voice currently speaking. Reaching for the glass in front of me, I took a long pull of the fragrant drink before setting it down, and fighting to calm the anxiousness creeping through my mind. Whoever he was, he wasn’t merely paying me a social call.

“You’ve heard of me then?” I asked, my breath quickening as fingers slid over the exposed skin of my shoulder. Turning toward his touch, I squinted at perfectly manicured fingernails, and my eyebrows threaded together, leaving a frown line between them that would have given my mother fits had she been here to see it.

“Indeed,” he concurred in a dark tone that seemed to vibrate through every nerve ending within my body. “I hope you don’t mind my interrupting your private time, Miss Reed?” he mocked.

It was then that Raithe Dravyn finally stepped into view. My heart stopped beating and my palms grew sweaty. The man was a monster, one who cared very little about harming or ruining anyone who stood between him and what he desired. Raithe, as those nearest to him called him, was a ruthless bastard.

“Raithe Dravyn,” I stated in a deadened tone. “I actually do mind you invading my personal space. There’s a proper way for you to approach me. This isn’t it,” I voiced as I slowly rose from the chair, only to be roughly pushed back down into my seat.

“I insist you stay and have a drink with me,” he stated firmly.

He moved to sit across from me. The riveting azure-blue of his stare held me transfixed, unable to look away from the golden specks floating in their churning depths. He offered me a smug curl of his lips before nodding to one of his men, who rushed forward to pour him a glass of whiskey. Long, narrow fingers pushed through obsidian silk, removing the strands of hair from his forehead.

“I want to discuss a job with you,” he disclosed in a soft, silken tone.

“Bold of you to assume I’m for hire at the moment, Mr. Dravyn.” Leaning forward, I set my elbows on the table and laced my fingers before resting my chin on my knuckles. “I’m a very busy woman. There’s a high demand for my skills at the moment, and I’m more likely to consider those who don’t disturb my brunch or ruin my appetite in order to gain my attention than those who do so.”

“You’re not currently hired out on a job. As for your skills being in high demand, I issued a warning before I entered this club. Anyone who seeks to hire you is dead. In fact, if you look, you’ll find those who were attempting to hire you have reconsidered.” Slowly batting my eyelashes, I felt my heart cease beating.

Snorting, I nibbled my lower lip between my teeth before releasing it slowly as his predatory stare dropped to my mouth.

“I have several inquiries for my services at the moment,” I disclosed as I lifted my phone and glanced at the seven hundred and twenty-two new emails. My heart began thundering in my chest as I ran my thumb over the screen, unlocking it. Opening my encrypted email server, I scowled as I scanned the updated subject lines, all of which read as some variation of position filled, cancelled, or rescinded.

“As I was saying,” he stated in a chiding tone, which forced my regard toward him.

“You arrogant bastard,” I hissed between my clenched teeth.

“Do you think I’m superior to you in some manner? I don’t assume you are inferior by any means. Women assume men are arrogant pricks when they’re bolder than they are. I’ve followed your work for some time and was surprised by how efficiently you took down your adversaries. You and I are rather tenacious, savage, and merciless toward those who oppose us. You’re positively stunning, and you’re even more so when you’re enraged.” His mouth tugged into a disarming smile as I growled and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

“You’re insane if you think flattery will get you anywhere with me.” I was, of course, lying. His compliment had an array of emotions churning in the pit of my stomach. No one ever offered me compliments. I was the one they called at their darkest hour to prevent their empires from crumbling to rubble. I hadn’t had a date since college, which was something my mother often reminded me of.

“It wasn’t flattery. It was an observation. Would you like to discuss the job you’re taking on, or would you prefer to be blindsided when the announcement’s made in the morning?” he countered aloofly. Reaching over me, he seized a slice of bacon from my abandoned plate.

“Actually, I’m still waiting for you to apologize, Raithe.” I shifted back and placed my hands in my lap, glaring at his crisp white dress shirt, which revealed hints of ink beneath the ironed collar. He’d rolled his sleeves up, exposing the ink decorating his forearms.

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