Page 13 of House of Payne
One of my many offices is in the far back corner of this floor. I don’t usually work here, but it makes it easy to get to someone should a problem occur. I glance at my watch. It’s still early, and it won’t hurt to sit down and read a few emails before I head back upstairs to oversee the House of Payne.
They’re having an event today, and I need to be there. If anything goes wrong, the blame will be on me. With my father and twin brother out of town, I’m the one running the show.
I reach my office, enter, and close the door behind me. It’s dark in here, just how I like it. There is an array of bookshelves on the back with more books than I’ve read in my life. A bathroom is tucked away on the back wall, and portraits hang on each adjacent wall. My desk is next to one of the bookshelves. It’s glass with a dark frame, and a pool table sits not too far away. I’ve only played pool a handful of times, but my assistant saidit fit. When it came to decorating, I rarely doubted her.
I rarely doubt her, period.
A knock at the door disturbs me before I can even power up my computer. A frown mars my features, and I sit back in the chair. “Who’s disturbing me right now?” I call out, my voice deeper than usual. On most occasions, that’s enough to make someone leave, but there are a few people who will try my patience anyway.
How did they know I was even in here? I didn’t tell anyone.
I squint as my fingers gloss over my gun, something I’m never without. It’s always best to be prepared.
“Katia,” comes from the other side of the door.
I drop my hand from the gun. “Come in.”
It doesn’t surprise me that she knew where I was. Katia is my personal assassin whose job is to know where I am around the clock and provide me with anything I need. She takes her job very seriously, and she’s damn good at it. She’s been serving me for nearly six years, ever since she turned eighteen.
It’s a Payne family tradition for every man to have a woman at his side, serving them in every way: emotionally, sexually, and physically. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better than Katia.
Katia has anticipated my every move and need since the moment I met her, and although I tell myself I can easily live without her, the truth is I don’t want to.
She’s everything I need rolled into one, and she looks damn good.
The door opens, and Katia walks in. She struts like a model, and her looks encourage that sentiment. She has wide hips—childbearing hips, as my mother would call them. It wasn’t uncommon for the Payne men to knock up their help. The children were bastards and not set to inherit anything, just members of the family.
I’d made it clear to Katia that wouldn’t happen with her.
I like her far too much to doom her to that kind of fate.
Her lips are tainted red with the lipstick she’s known for. Her dark hair is naturally straight and hangs past her shoulders. Her skin looks tanner than usual, and I’m sure she’s been spending what little free time she has out in the sun. She’s tall, even more so in the six-inch heels, which she refuses to be seen without.
Everything about this woman is a wet dream. She’s wearing dark jeans that hug her curves and a black button-down shirt with a red bra that peeks from underneath, pushing up her breasts.
“Mr. Payne,” she nods, closing the door behind her. I raise an eyebrow but don’t say anything. I’ve told Katia many times that it’s not necessary for her to refer to me by my last name, but because my dad says differently, she listens to him.
I guess her fear of him outweighs any fear she has of me.
She’s carrying a pile of folders and gently sets them on my desk. I don’t have any other chairs because I don’t enjoy entertaining anyone here, but I might have to change that for Katia.
“Talk,” I instruct her as I open the first folder, glancing at the business name at the top.
“Some of these are your contracts with the brokered deals between House of Payne and your clientele. Others are memberships from the legal side of House of Payne, and a few detail money owed from loans that have already been issued.”
“I’ve seen these. Why am I looking at them again?” I close the folder and sigh. I don’t enjoy repetitive work.
“These are the quarterlies,” she reminds me.
Time to see which businesses will sink or swim.
I nod brusquely. “How many businesses are at risk of default this time around?” Whenever we loan money to external businesses, it’s under the clause that we understand they might not be able to pay us back in cash, but we have other methods of getting our money back. Nobody steals from the House of Payne.
“More than usual. About thirteen.”
A slow smile spreads across my face. Usually, it’s half of that. Regular loan sharks wouldn’t be so happy about such a number, but nothing about us is regular.
“Has Carlisle made any of themtheoffer?”
