Page 17 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two
“No,” I say, my voice calm. “The CEO will be at the gala tomorrow. Will the COO?”
A slick smile crosses Melissa’s face.
“Yes. As well as the CFO and their head lawyer,” she replies.
Perfect. They think they can fuck around and ghost me on this deal? They’ve got a rude as fuck wakeup call coming their way tomorrow night.
“Good,” I say, finally opening the door.
“Good afternoon, Ms.Rivers! We’re so happy to style you for tomorrow’s event. I’ve sourced ten outfits I believe will look stunning on you.” She points toward the rack of elegant formal dresses.
I smirk and take the glass of water that one of the assistants hands me. Fingering through the options, I say, “All black?”
The head designer gawks at me.
“It was…this is your preference for events like this, right?”
She’s not wrong.
But then I think of the game Keystone’s playing, this new competitor for the bank, and why this is all happeningnowwhen I’m supposed to be far away from here with my babies in my arms.
“No.I want to wear red. The bloodiest you have,” I reply. To punctuate the demand, I offer a determined smile.
FOUR
STORM
No one bothers me on the way to the top floor of the Eshu building, except for the girl at the front desk of the high-rise, who made it more than clear that she’s down to fuck at any time and any place, like that Janet Jackson song.
Still, I don’t think about relaxing until the elevator doors slide closed behind me, taking me to the top floor of the penthouse my assistant set me up in for the next eight weeks while I’m in Chicago.
Every time I think about how long I’ll be here and the fact thatshe’shere, I start to get dizzy—a buzzing starts between my ears, and it feels like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff, seconds away from jumping off.
It’s equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.
Me, Storm Alexander Sandoval, the man who’s never terrified of anything…except the five-foot-three woman who stole his heart.
“Get in, get out, go back to business as usual,” I say to the empty elevator car. Lakeland said it’ll take a month or two to finish the job. I’m gonna see if I can cut it down to a few weeks. The longer I stay here, the more likely it is I’ll fuck up somehow—and most likely, I’ll fuck up in a way that concerns Shae. It’s my top priority to make sure that never happens.
That’s why, even at four-thirty a.m., after not sleeping at all and having a meeting with the CEO of Keystone Financial at noon, I’m wired.
The elevator doors open. I step out of the lift but immediately stop short. A glass wall separates the landing outside the elevator from the condo’s living space, providing a sense of privacy.
But clearly, there’s no privacy to be had in my day, because on the other side of the glass is a face I haven’t seen in months.
“Welcome to La Casa, amigo!” Axel yells through the closed see-through door.
Jesus. I can’t get a nap before I have to deal with his hyper ass?
I open the door after tapping my watch against the panel affixed to the glass.
Axel grins, rocking back and forth on his heels. I can tell he’s giddy about having taken me off guard.
“Your assistant’s computer network is super hackable, by the way. It took nothing to get into her system and change your reservation to this building. But anyway. Nice, right?” Axel throws his arms out to present the space as if he were on MTVCribs.
Damn, what a throwback.
“You changed the reservation?” I shake my head, too tired to deal with him and his bullshit. Axel, Riale, and I talk nearly every day via the comms system Axel created, but it’s been a minute since I experienced Axel at full force and in person.
