Page 13 of Left of the Slash
Olivia sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I don't know. I’ll let Annette and her department finish analyzing daily operations, then we’ll do an internal investigation—”
“We haven't even finished thelastinternal investigation,” Stephen says, cutting Olivia off.
She scoffs. “I know that, but that isn't something I have control over. How was I supposed to know we’d have another breach so soon?”
“We didn't have this much shit going on when Diego was in charge. Or Jon for that matter,” Nick mumbles loud enough for everyone to hear, and the look on Olivia’s face nearly sends me over the edge. I can tell she's fed up with all of this shit, but she can't do a thing about it. The truth is that Nick is right. The company was thriving when Jon took over for Diego. Now we have fires popping up before we can put the last one out, and it’s starting to feel like everything is going to burn down.
“You know what?” Olivia says, letting out a long breath. “I'm only going to say this once. You all have a fucking job to do, and I suggest you do it. Find out who did this, because it doesn't matter how much you don't like me. If you don't do your jobs, you're going to lose them because we won’t have a single client left before too long. Do you like the sound of your paychecks coming up short because of this? If that doesn't bother you, then by all means, keep thinking about how things were before I took over. But thinking about that won't save you from what’s happening. So fucking fix it.”
“Oh, is that what you call leadership?” Stephen fires back. “Just yell at us to fix it while you go into your office and shut the door. You can open it back up once we’ve solved your problem for you.”
“It’s not justmyproblem,” Olivia snaps, standing up hard enough to force her chair back into the wall. It slams against the chair rail, startling everyone in the room. “I'm getting sick and tired of the way you all treat me here. This isn't my fault, alright? And it doesn't matter what you say. I'm not stepping down so that your friend can take my place. Obsidian belonged to my father, and now it belongs to me whether you like it or not. It belongs to my family. A Lucero started this so you don't get to fucking steal it. So deal with it.”
“Wow,” Nick says as Olivia starts to walk out and our world descends into chaos before I can even have my first cup of coffee.
“Well, something tells me you're going to have more to deal with the longer you're in charge,” Stephen says just as Olivia reaches the doors and walks out with tears in her eyes.
What the fuck is happening? I thought getting promoted would ascend me to a place of maturity and wisdom, but this feels like high school drama on steroids. Seeing Olivia upset makes my blood boil, and I feel my temperature rise and break the roof. It all becomes overwhelming and I feel my dark devil sprinting toward the sunlight, ready to burst out of the shadows and take over. I slam my hand on the table, making everybody jump again before getting up and storming out of the room.
I catch Olivia just before she walks into her office. “Hey, are you okay?” I ask when I reach her.
She turns around wiping a falling tear off her cheek. “I'm fine, Quinn. I'm just sick of this shit.”
“I know,” I say, “All of this is bullshit. Why don't you just fire these disrespectful motherfuckers?”
“In the middle of all this drama?” she says, frustration pouring from her eyes. “I can’t. I'm new in this field and I need their experience to get through this. I hate to admit it, but we won’t make it out of this without their expertise.”
“Expertise? They don't do any-fucking-thing,” I snap, my voice traveling down the hall. “All they do is bitch and moan about you being in charge. How is that helping you find out anything about what’s happening?”
Olivia sighs, clearly exasperated. “Ugh, this is not what I need right now. We already have too much shit on our plate. If you want to help, then go solve this.”
“I will fucking solve it,” I snap. “Clearly I'm the only one even willing to try.”
“Wow, Quinn,” Jon’s voice suddenly says. I whirl around and find everybody standing in the doorway of the conference room, and it’s obvious they’ve been listening to us the whole time. Jonsmirks and says, “Working on getting some special treatment from the boss, huh?”
Nick laughs. “Looks like Quinn isn't worried about payroll because she's paying him another way.”
The three of them laugh as Eden and Annette separate themselves from the group as if letting us know that they are not a part of the hate. As they walk away, I stare at the trio with their smiling, smug faces. Everything that I work to keep subdued comes roaring out. I'm no longer Quinn. I'm Quincy’s son: emotional, tempermental, hot-headed … violent. I lose all sense of control I have left as my dark devil screams its way out of its cage and into reality. In a blink, I'm standing in front of the three of them, fists balled, my face tight with rage that will surely get me fired, but I don't fucking care. I’ve had enough of this shit.
“Say another fucking word, and I swear I’ll beat the living shit out of all three of you. I've sat here and watched you all be rude to this woman simply for doing her job at the company her father built, and I'm done. Diego built Obsidian. Not either of you tiny-dicked, pathetic, incel pussies. It’s actually funny, because I'm calling you pussies but I can tell none of you actually get pussy. That’s why you're so mad that a woman is in charge of your place of employment, even though her fucking father built it from the ground up. But let’s see if either of you is man enough to ignore Olivia and just think about me—a man who is willing to stand up for a woman I barely know because I don't like seeing strong women being attacked by weak men. Here’s your chance to prove your manhood. Go ahead and say something else. I'm willing to bet I’ll throw one of you through this glass door before the other two can do anything about it. By the time security makes it down here, at least two of you will be unconscious and the third will be on their knees, looking up at Olivia, begging her for forgiveness while I stand over you making sure you getthe words right. So let’s see if there is a single man amongst the three of you. Do it. Say something else.”
Tension sucks the air and sound out of the room as all of us stand there wondering what is about to happen next. Eden and Annette gawk at us with their mouths agape, and the three fucking morons hold their breath while I stare daggers into them all—waiting and hoping they say something so I can unleash hell all over them. It’s too late to go back now. I've crossed a line and I'm ready to take this all the way to the end. I don't move until Olivia’s voice breaks the trance.
“Quinn,” she says from behind me. “It’s okay.”
I look at her over my shoulder as a crowd begins to form at the entrance to the executive wing, but more eyes don't make me calm down. “It’snotokay. The way they treat you isnotokay. The pain you've felt from the moment you came to work here after your father's death isnotokay. Being ganged up on by a bunch of pussy ass men isnotokay, and what’s happening to Obsidian isnotokay. But whatisokay is the fact that I have to be the one to go against the grain and fix it all. I’mperfectlyokay with that. They think this shit is funny, but that’s because they don't know me. But like you said, Olivia, it’s okay … because they're about to. Just wait and see.”
My heart batters against my ribs as I think about all the things I could do to find out what’s happening. No one here knows that my father is Quincy King. They don't know I'm the son of a murderer. They don't know the things he taught me, or how I could use them to do whatever I want. They don't know what I'm capable of, which means they have no idea who they're fucking with.
TEN - Olivia
“Here you are. A vodka cranberry for you … and a tropical fruit margarita for you. I’ll be back later to check on you. Enjoy, ladies.”
“Thanks very much,” I reply to the tall, slender waiter wearing a black button-up with a black and white bowtie. He walks away as I start to reach for my cocktail, but Eden’s wide-eyed stare from across the table makes me pause. “Ugh, what?”
Eden twists her mouth, her shiny red lipstick glowing under the lights of the Wonderland Bar. Both of us are still dressed in our work clothes because after everything that happened today, we needed drinks before doing anything else. My brain may have had a meltdown if I waited until I got home to have some wine, so we decided to meet at our favorite bar to take a little bit of the edge off, and it helps that Wonderland is just a couple minutes’ drive from each of our houses.
Eden crosses her arms and keeps her eyes on me, even tilting her head for added dramatic effect.
