Page 52 of Twisted (Never After)
“Doesn’t matter, I guess. You made the right choice in coming to me for help. But you know, I feel almost guilty now.” I laugh before cutting it off abruptly, my gaze burning through his.
The resounding silence is thick.
“Don’t you want to know why?” I press.
“Y- yes,” he stutters.
Leaning my torso over the top of his desk, I lower my voice to a murmur. “I never got rid of the tapes.”
His cheeks turn pink, panic spreading through his features.
I move the tip of my staff from his chest, dragging it up his throat until it rests beneath his chin. I force his gaze to meet mine with a flick of my wrist. “I’d hate to see what would happen if they got into the wrong hands.”
Withdrawing my staff, I start to flip it again, enjoying the way Anthony’s eyes follow it around and around in my palm.
“But there’s only so much I can do.” My hand stops moving. “You understand.”
His jaw muscles twitch, his body vibrating in his seat. “Give me an hour.”
A smile spreads across my face. “I’m not unreasonable. I’ll give you two.”
Snapping back my staff, I close it and place it back in my pocket as I leave the room, walking through the stale halls of the Badour courthouse.
I move to grab my phone, my fingers ghosting across Yasmin’s, and I smirk, wondering how badly she’s freaking out over losing it. Three days ago when I told her to pack, she didn’t mention it, and I’m sure by now she’s figured it’s gone forever.
If she’s a good girl today, maybe I’ll give it back. Once she’s married to me legally, it doesn’t really matter if she attempts to talk to the boy, and I’ve rigged her phone to send transcripts of everything to me anyway.
Picking my own cell from my pocket, I scroll past the new voicemail from my mother and dial my office’s reception.
“Mr. Faraci,” Ciara says. “What can I do for you?”
“I need you at the courthouse.”
“Of course. I’ll be there in thirty.”
It takes her closer to an hour to arrive, and then another twenty minutes for me to tell her my expectations.
Don’t speak unless she’s needed, stay out of the way, and sign as the witness when Anthony asks her to. And above all else,don’tbreathe a word of it to anybody. The last thing I need is for the press to get wind of this and Ali to find out I’ve secretly married his daughter without him there. I need to tell him in person so I can spin it in my favor.
He’s still alive, which means he can still change his will, and if he realizes what I’m doing, everything could go to complete shit.
But it’s better to take the chance and make sure Yasmin is bound to me rather than give her time to second-guess her smart decision of playing along. Or even worse, to come up with some foolish plan and try to outsmart me.
I sent Razul, the bodyguard I’ve tasked from my personal security to be her shadow, to bring Yasmin from her house. Personally, I don’t care if anything happens to her, but until everything is said and done—her father and her both out of the way— she’ll be my wife, and I take great care in protecting my assets.
“So,” Ciara starts as we lean against the wall outside Anthony’s office. “Married, huh?” She picks at her pink painted nails.
I swipe through emails on my phone, ignoring her completely.
“And to Yasmin Karam?” she continues. “Now I get why you were so up in arms when I didn’t let her in the other day. I didn’t even know you were dating.”
I glance at her out of my peripheral vision, my top lip sneering in disgust. “Since when is it areceptionist’sjob to know who her boss is fucking?”
She shakes her head. “It’s not. You’re right. I just…I don’t know. I’m surprised is all.”
“I don’t pay you to care about my personal life,” I reply. “I pay you to do what I say. Answer phones, schedule meetings, and when I say jump, you ask how high. That’sit. Got it?”
She nods, moving her gaze to the ground, the toe of her blue- heeled shoe gliding back and forth on the tiled floor.
