Page 46 of Vow of Revenge
Was he for real? Did he really expect me to want his help on this? Like I was incapable of fighting for myself and needed a hero. The very same hero who probably fucked Lynn the entire weekend. I was the one who created this situation, and I didn’t need him to ride in on a black stallion and rescue me.
I ignored his email, shoving him to the back of my mind. I had a bitch to extinguish. Locating my article on fashion bloggers, I attached it to an email and forwarded to Cynthia, under the guise of support and critique before submission. It was an underhand move, but I wasn’t dealing with a rational person, I was dealing with a mean girl.
Email: Kaleb De Courcy
Heading: Don’t ignore me
Little Mouse,
I know you read my email.
See you soon.
Kaleb
Oh fuck.
“Kaleb, what a pleasant surprise!” Cynthia welcomed me into her office with a peck on my cheek. She stretched up as far as she could, yet I still had to stoop to let the frail skeleton greet me. I like a lot more beef on my ladies and a few years closer to youth than the casket. This old bird could pass for seventy-five, easily, but she was actually in her early sixties. My uncle knew her husband, Harold Anderson, they ran in the same social circle and were members of the age old Vertus Circulo society. Brett and I weren’t allowed to join the old crony’s in their secret club, not yet anyway. The Andersons often found themselves at one of the many functions Aunt Angie and Uncle Sean held. Cynthia had attended one of Angie’s dinner parties in the city a few nights ago. When I asked her about the magazine, she told me all about her favourite employee, Freya Beaumont. Little did she know that I banked all her insider gossip and stored it away.
“Are you here to see, Lynn?” Her thin pencilled brows drifted up.
I cleared my throat. There was one reason, and one reason only why I was here. Freya was playing hard to get. That fact alone made my chest tight and my blood simmer. “Actually, I’m here to see someone else. Miss Beaumont. I met her at the Gala, and we discussed the option of her providing me with a service. After your glowing recommendation, I didn’t think you would mind. However, it’s always better to ask first, rather than poach the girl from behind your back.”
Her tall forehead scrunched, and all the wrinkles squished together like the lines in a journal. “Freya? I don’t think she is of any value to you, Kaleb.” Her tone changed like a wild cat defending her cubs. “I see no objection to you playing with, Lynn, but Freya should be left out of your games.”
I chuckled low in my throat and lifted her frail hand to my lips. “Oh, Cynthia.” I lightly kissed her knuckles and smiled down at her. “I’m here to ask your permission to borrow her for an hour or so, that’s all. I got my hands on a few pieces of artwork from a downtown gallery. I need them logged before the big auction next week. There just aren’t enough hours in the day, Cynthia. You know that.” The corners of my mouth drifted into a knowing smirk. “Is she any good at writing? My usual girl has to take some unexpected leave.” I lied, straight through my teeth. I sacked her this morning. It was a rash decision but one that would help me get close to Freya and play out the master plan.
“I understand, Kaleb. Freya is one of my best, like I told you at the dinner party. She has a raw talent.” A burst of excitement expanded my lungs when I recalled Freya’s particular talents. “I’m sure we can spare her for the morning. You know I can never turn down a handsome, De Courcy.” She moved behind the desk, grabbed the phone receiver before punching in a four-digit extension number. “Freya is needed elsewhere today, please let her manager know. And, Lynn, why are you answering her manager’s phone? Please go back to your own floor and do the job I’m paying you to do. You are not paid to wander the building and gossip.” Cynthia pulled the receiver back from her ear and winced at the high-pitched squawk. I thought about the blazing red mark I left on Lynn’s ass, but it didn’t spark into excitement, more of a satisfaction that she got what she deserved.
“I’ll call her in for you.” Her veiny fingers hung over the keypad, ready to invite Freya into her office. I didn’t want Cynthia to see the look in Freya’s eyes when she saw me. It was a lustful glaze that made my cock twitch every time.
“Don’t worry, I’ll catch her myself.”
I edged out of her cluttered room with the stealth of a panther. This woman was scrutinising my every move and analysing thoughts that even I had no clue about.
“Kaleb… the fourth floor. She’s a good girl. Tread carefully,” she called out.
“Don’t worry, Cynthia, I’ll pay her well.” I smirked as I turned my back to the door, away from her knowing eyes.
Good girl my ass, she was a dirty little bitch, and I would reward her with my dick if I wanted to.
The elevator doors pinged open to a bustling office filled with desks and too many people. Walking through the room made my skin itch. It was claustrophobic and disorderly. Phones rang, people talked loudly, printers churned out multiple copies, and the stuffy air felt dry and suffocating.
Lynn’s shrill voice lead me straight to Freya. She sat behind a paper stacked desk with hair pulled back in a messy bun and a black shirt painted onto her alabaster skin.
“I told you that article needed rewritten. Your writing is shit, Freya. I trust you will keep to the deadline. Where exactly are you going anyway?” She stood over the little mouse, pretending to be the dominatrix that she so obviously wasn’t.
Her insolent voice struck a nerve. If she was a man, I’d happily cut the legs from under her.
“She’s coming with me.” I stepped into their line of vision, my eyes focused on Freya’s rosy face and startled eyes.
“Kaleb?” Lynn stood tall, almost rigid. Lust reverberated off her skin, her fingers grazed the desk steadying her legs. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
I was completely disinterested in her struggle for composure. Sparks of anger had ignited in my chest. I couldn’t quite fathom why they were there, or why they burned into my skeleton. It felt deceptive, as if I wanted to protect Freya from this awful woman. But she wasn’t mine, nor would she ever be. My tarnished soul would never allow me to keep her. It would only devour her in the shadows and spit her out when she gave me everything.
“Freya, get your coat,” I barked. This time, I was the one who struggled to keep my cool. Her eyes drank in every ounce of my existence. She was sucking the need for vengeance from my mind and replacing it with a double shot of lust.
“Freya? You came here for her?” I ignored Lynn’s whiny pathetic voice.
