Page 20 of The Mogul: Leonard

“Come on, Leonard! You can’t convince me you don’t share a history with her. The way you look at each other is not something you can hide.”

The history we share is not exactly the one she wants to hear and not one I’m proud of.

“Are you telling me that the ‘sources near the couple’ are wrong and you didn’t leave together?” She raises a challenging eyebrow.

I scroll through the article and find the part where they describe her entering my limo but omit the part where her car didn’t start.

“Her car broke down, and I couldn’t leave her there in the middle of the night. She lives in an unsafe neighborhood. I couldn’t tell Silver they murdered her little sister because I didn’t give her a ride home.” My explanation is far more detailed that I intended, and it’s having the opposite effect on Trish.

Her grin widens. “And the dance?” she challenges.

I sigh. This will sound like an excuse. “A guy was groping her in the middle of the dance floor, and she couldn’t get rid of him, so I intervened.” I hate myself for sounding so insecure.

“Saved two times in one night? What an eventful party!” she teases.

“I know it sounds like an excuse. I swear it’s not.” I hope to be firm enough to shut down her ideas.

She laughs. “I’m joking, Leonard. Who you flirt with is none of my business, but I wanted you to know about those pictures in case you need to release a statement or something. I know you don’t read those kinds of magazines.”

I smile at her. “And why do you read them?”

“Because someone needs to tell you who your latest flirt is. You have to keep up to date.” She shrugs and stands up. “Now, I’ll leave you to your meeting,” she adds, glancing at Oliver, who is still scowling.

For a few minutes, I forgot the discussion we were having, and now that I’m back to reality I don’t know if I want to return to that argument. Trish walks out the door and hesitates a few moments before closing it. She looks between Oliver and me like she doesn’t know whether to intervene in our fight or let it go. It’s clear there is tension in this room, considering Oliver didn’t even acknowledge her presence.

“Thank you for letting me know about those photos. I’ll take care of it.” I smile at her before she is gone.

As soon as the door closes behind her, I move my gaze to Oliver.

“A hacker? Seriously? Do you really want to associate yourself with such scum? You’re the one who pointed out five minutes ago we’re a cybersecurity company. How do you think they’re going to take this? You’re a pain in my ass for a few dollars, and then you fuck her?” he spits venomously.

I let him finish before letting loose with my frustration. “First, you’re talking about my best friend’s sister-in-law. I would choose my words very carefully if I were you. Second, as I told Trish before, I’m not fucking her. Not that it’s even your business,” I hiss.

“Fuck whoever you want, but remember that she’s still a hacker, and she is the enemy here.”

“She’s a white hat, for fuck’s sake!” I shout.

My tone gets his attention. He straightens his spine and tightens his jaw.

“So what? Are you hiring her now? Maybe she’s the one stealing from you. Have you ever considered that?” He seems to get more and more angry about those fucking pictures and their meaning.

Yes. I have considered it, but I had my answer at the party: I’m not even worthy of her time at a social event, let alone being hacked by her. And I’m her brother-in-law’s best friend; she would never mess with her family.

“She’s not. Don’t even insinuate something like that!” I spit angrily.

Oliver stands up and walks to the door. I look at him, baffled because this argument is far from over.

“Until you stop thinking with your dick, I’m done talking to you,” he says, walking out of the office and slamming the door behind him.

“What the fuck just happened?” I breathe out.

I talked to him countless times without really understanding what was going on. It might be time to talk to people close to him to see if they have a clue about what’s bothering him. I’m not particularly eager to go behind his back, but at this point, his behavior is affecting our personal and professional relationship.

My eyes land on the magazine pages, where my face is clearly visible in all its lusty glory. How did I lose my composure like that? In front of Raphael, no less.

I need to stop this mess before it spirals out of control.

“I need your help,” I blurt out when my lawyer answers the phone.

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