Page 37 of Emperor of Corruption
I shake it first, hearing the slight clink of jewelry. Instead of exciting me, the prospect of an expensive present angers me.
Killian got me a gift after he drugged me and fucked me until I passed out. He was shopping for flowers and jewelry while I was frantically running to the nearest pharmacy to find Plan B, and working from my laptop while praying to God that I didn’t catch any STDs from him.
The man is profoundly cruel and twisted… and, even without tonight’s interview, I still have seven weeks with him left. Seven weeks of coercion to dinners. Seven weeks of being his doll.
Seven weeks of trauma-fuel to ruin his life.
Every time Killian exerts his will on me, he only cements my decision to do everything in my power to hurt him.
I slowly crack open the box. The sheer number of diamonds that glitter up at me are blinding, and I promptly slam it shut again. Curiosity gets the better of me… so I open it once more.
The necklace hidden within is beautiful. A white-gold setting is shaped into a vine, which gives way to diamonds cut to mimic leaves. While the white diamonds are overwhelming, there’s also an assortment of tastefully arranged rubies, emeralds, and sapphires to look like flowers. It’s beautiful—the most beautiful piece of jewelry I’ve everseen, let alone been gifted.
Killian must’ve put thought into this… which will make selling it all the more satisfying. As pretty and tempting as the necklace is, I can’t keep it—it’d only be a symbol of Killian’s ownership.
After some research, I realize that this necklace is worth more than 200k. That’s well over a year’s salary for me—bonuses included. Icould quit right now and live comfortably for a good year, even in my nice apartment complex.
I won’t, of course; despite my current rough patch with Sarah and the long hours, I love my job. Even Killian can’t take that away from me. He might make me hate my current project, but he’ll never take away my love of writing.
Have you ever considered writing a book rather than an article?His words float across my mind, but I immediately toss away that possibility. I’d need to have either insane luck or an excellent business plan to make writing books a viable career. As of now, I have neither.
I take pictures of the necklace, make an anonymous account at one of the prestigious second-hand luxury goods websites, and immediately put it up with an asking price of 150k.
An offer comes in, full price, an hour later. I feel a slight smile tug my lips as I click accept, then arrange an anonymous drop-off upon payment, utilizing a useful courier service. I’m surprised I got through the website’s verification so quickly.
That was surprisingly easy.When you’re selling high end jewelry at a marked down price, I suppose things move faster.
I’ll have onefuckof a tax bill this year, but I’ll be able to afford it.
Something giddy rises inside of me. I got one over on Killian. I got one over on Killian,andI made some cash from it. I didn’t think anything could make me feel better after the depression that sunk its claws into me yesterday, but right now, I feel like I have a glimmer of hope.
I’m not as powerful as Killian, and I never will be, but I’m eternally underestimated by the people around me. It’s why I’m good at what I do; evenafterpeople find out I’ve won one of the most coveted awards in the world, they still dismiss me on account of me beingsmall, unassuming, and mostly quiet. They mistake my quietness for complacency. My ability to bend under pressure for breaking.
I believe it was Confucius who saidthe green reed which bends in the wind is stronger than the mighty oak which breaks in a storm.
I’ll bend and contort under pressure and I’ll suffer, but life has thrown many trials at me, and I know Killian is simply one more. If nothing else has broken me, he certainly won’t get the pleasure.
Rhea is a pretty woman who’s younger than I expected—mid-twenties, like me. Her amber eyes are brightened by thick dark lashes, her cheeks are covered in a smattering of freckles, her dark hair is tied into a sleek bun, and she looks like she belongs on a runway rather than in a corner table at a hole-in-the-wall café.
Her greeting to me is decidedly less pleasant than her appearance. She looks me up and down, eyes shadowed with suspicion. “Do you have a recording device on you?”
My eyebrows lift, but I shake my head. “No, I figured it’d be best to commit anything said to memory.”
“You thought right. Mind if I take a peek through your bag?”
Warning tickles the back of my mind. I’ve only gotten this sort of request when dealing with high-level individuals who had to ensure I couldn’t record them inanyway to avoid any brushes with the law… or people who lived on the wrong side of the law.
Either Rhea is going to give me information that’s exceptionally dangerous, or she’s going to rat me out. As of now, I don’t know which it is.
I hand over my purse, since I brought nothing of value with me. My eyes flick to the stained linoleum counter, and the bored-looking barista playing on his phone behind it. This coffee shop is sandwiched between two equally innocuous stores—a bagel spot and a pizzeria, both of which look like they’re in sore need of a visit from the health inspector.
“Thanks.” Rhea motions for me to sit. I gaze at the shabby wooden chair for a few moments before carefully sinking into it. “Can never be too safe these days.”
“Is that why you selected a meeting location with no working cameras?” I query, motioning at the ceiling. Most establishments these days have at least one or two security cameras—even the shitty ones—but here, only dim, bare lightbulbs lend a glow to the destitute shop.
“It is.” Rhea braces her elbows on the table and leans forward. “You must’ve gone through a lot of effort to find me. I’m not listed anywhere as an ex-executive assistant to Killian King. I presume you were searching for someone in Killian’s past who might have dirt on him.”
Interesting that she calls himKillianand notMr. King. Maybe that’s a habit she developed post-employment… or maybe Killian also fed her an aphrodisiac and took her to his bed.
