Page 43 of Vicious Heir

“There are too many traders. From here on out, you’re running a lean, profitable business.”

“I can’t just fire them. Those guys have wives, they have kids?—”

“And they’ll find some other fund to fleece. Fire half of them.”

I leave his office. Luca keeps pace, looking thoroughly pleased.

“Looks like we’re coming up in the world,” he says.

“We’re getting there.” I pause by the elevators. The distraught secretary is back at her desk, looking like she needs a stiff drink. “When we get back, you and six other men are on Lucy detail. I want you to escort her back to her house so she can pack her things.”

“You don’t need help in the basement?”

“No, I don’t.” I step into the elevator when it arrives. “I’m very much looking forward to getting my hands dirty.”

Chapter 14

Lucy

“We’ll be out here if you need anything.” Luca gives me a big, twisted smile. The other guards are all rough-looking and miserable, but at least he seems alright.

“Thanks for the ride, but really, you don’t need to stay.”

“Boss’s orders.” Luca leans back against the fence and gives a hard look at the sidewalk. “Let me know if you need a hand.”

“Sure,” I murmur as I head into my childhood home.

For maybe the last time.

It feels strange stepping in through the side entrance. I was here just a day ago, and nothing is different. But now, I’m Adriano’s wife, and I live in the Marino Mansion on the other side of the city. My standard of living hasn’t changed—if anything, it’s gotten better—except it’s like an entirely different world there.

This place is stuffy. It’s dark and quiet. It reeks of old privilege, long unearned at this point. I don’t even know how I belong here anymore.

Until footsteps hammer on the floor and Kennedy comes around the corner. “I was so worried!”

She slams into me with a big hug. I return it, squeezing hard. “I was freaking out,” I tell her. “Are you okay?”

“Totally fine. God, that was so crazy. I just keep thinking about it. All those people freaking out, stampeding, and that fire?—”

“I’m just thankful you’re okay.”

We hug tightly for a little while longer. It’s only then that I realize Kennedy doesn’t really work for me anymore. She’s employed at this house, but I don’t live here.

“Come on, I started packing for you last night.” She holds my hand as we walk through the strange and familiar halls together. “I was too amped up and had nothing else to do.”

“So you came to work?”

“No, I came to help out my friend.” She gives me a look as we step into my room.

Half my stuff is in boxes. She’s got everything organized already. Typical Kennedy. Tears well up in my eyes as I look at it all.

My entire life thrown onto the bed, stacked on the floor, and piled nearly into the corners of the room.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” I say, overwhelmed.

“My best friend’s wedding got car bombed. I feel like this was the least I could do.” She leans against me.

“You really mean that? I mean, you don’t work for me anymore, and it’s not like I have any of my own money?—”

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