Page 38 of Emperor of Corruption
No, if it were the latter, I think she’d be significantly more… jittery.
“I wouldn’t quite say that.” One look at Rhea’s suspicious nature tells me I’ll need to approach this very,verycarefully. She’ll tell me to fuck off if I admit I’m purely looking for dirt on him, so I’ll need to slide a little closer to my motives than I’d prefer.
“Then what would you say? I understand we’re both busy women. Do us the courtesy of not wasting time.”
“Very well.” I pause, trying to word what I’ll say before spewing it out. “To be honest—and I do hope this stays between us, otherwise I’ll lose my job and my nice salary—I’ve seen glimpses of a part of Killian that make me very hesitant to work with him. I was only meant to have one interview with him—during the interview, I pushed back just enough to make something… odd occur. It’s like he became a different person. Darker. Far more dangerous. Then, he suddenly requested that I do an entire profile on him rather than an article—a profile that’ll be preceded by eight weeks of interviews with him. This is my first week, and my discomfort has only grown. I’m not here for a story or a quote. I’m here because I’m worried for my wellbeing.”
Rhea’s eyes only narrow more as I speak. I’m not sure if it’s suspicion or contemplation.
“What’s he done to make you so worried?” she asks.
“I’d rather not say.”
“And yet you expect me to divulge details about my ex-boss that could get me killed?”
Cold flashes over my body.Killed?
The word shouldn’t be as surprising as it is. I don’t think I’m shocked that another person realizes Killian is probably capable—more,experienced—with murder. What surprises me is that she said italoud. It’s like breathing life into all of my fears and doubts.
“I’m trying to avoid getting in over my head. I won’t force you to talk. I’m not here as a reporter, I’m here as a woman who’s trying to see how much danger she’s in, how much she should be worried.”
“If Killian requested you keep working with him, you’re already in over your head. As for danger… just assume the danger around Killian is infinite.” Rhea leans forward. “I’m inclined to trust you as much as someone can trust a reporter—journalist—whatever you are. So I’ll tell you this much; Killian isnota safe or entirely sane individual. I sawthings through the course of my employment…” she trails off with a shiver. “No one should ever have to see those things. If you can find a way to get out from under his thumb, do it. If he’s trapped you…” she shakes her head, almost sorrowfully. “Then I’m afraid it’s already too late. You just have to try to survive.”
“Should I be worried that he’ll kill me?”
“Depends. Are you high-profile enough for your death to be an inconvenience?”
The question punches me right in the gut. Rhea’s indicating that my only safety will be found not in relying on Killian’s morals, since I’m not sure he has any, but in relying on his steadfastness in maintaining his shiny public image.
“People have seen us together—”
“That means jack shit. If you become an inconvenience, then your life is in danger unless killing you is even more inconvenient.”
I swallow harshly. “Okay.”
“Watch yourself. And watchhim. And, Lyra, in case you ever get an itch to dig into him, to try to find something that might actually tarnish him in the public eye…” she pauses. Glances around, then leans forward even more. “He attends meetings every quarter, like clockwork. Off-the-books. I’ve never been to one, but I did once hear that those meetings include Silas Cornell, and I’ve heard he has business interests with Silas. If you want to search, that’s where I’d start. But, once you’ve started looking, know that your life is forfeit. That’s why I never had the strength.”
She swiftly stands and strides out of the coffee shop. I sink farther into my seat, heart hammering, mind reeling.
Killian King isn’t just a rapey man who’ll blackmail me into spending time with him and drug me to gain my consent… he might be someone much,muchworse.
Chapter Fifteen
Killian
My secretary stumbles into my office at 8 P.M., red-faced, panting, and looking afraid enough to shit himself. His appearance is enough to make me lower the phone pressed to my ear.
He’s always been smart, composed, and efficient. All things I value from the people in my service. I’m parting my lips to ask what his problem is whenSilas Cornellstorms in after him, making his cause for hysteria clear.
“Silas,” I drawl, hanging up the phone.
“Sir,” my secretary says. I don’t remember his name—he’s only worked here for a year, and he’ll cross the three-year mark before I honor him by remembering menial details. “I tried to keep him out, but—”
“Get out,” I say calmly. He skitters away like a kitchen mouse running from a flame.
Silas would be wise to follow course, but instead, the idiot walks forward. His expression is twisted with a mixture of fury and, strangely, something approaching smugness.
“You better have a phenomenal reason for interrupting my day,” I warn.
