Page 89 of Emperor of Corruption
“Then let me go.”
“I don’twantto let you go!” he snaps, loudly enough that a few people around us turn to throw him looks. My eyes flutter closed, and I release a sigh.
“I’m going to teach you a lesson,” I say quietly. “A lesson it seems you never learned as a child. We can’t all get what we want, whenever we want.”
Killian’s eyes burn with conviction. “I can.”
He returns to his meal, and an uneasy feeling settles in my stomach. Is he considering extending our arrangement, despite adamantly reminding me that I’m beneath him?
No. He can’t.
I won’t let him.
Ihaveto find leverage on him… not only to prevent the release of my tape, but to prevent him from breaking his word.
My observation skills are in full-throttle for the rest of the day, but they onlytrulybegin to come in handy when we attend a gala thatevening. Killian doesn’t put a hand on my waist—he actually respects my demand of keeping our arrangement and relationship, if it can be called that, private—which gives me ample opportunity to watch him work the room.
The gala is for a charity that’s aiming to end world hunger, and there are many big players here. One of them is Silas Cornell—he and Killian don’t seemnearlyas friendly as they were the last time I saw them in the same room. In fact, Silas tries to strike up conversation with Killian more than once, and Killian gives him looks so chilling they raise the hair on the back ofmyneck.
“You’re Killian’s little reporter.” A low, gritty voice draws me out of my musings, just as a vaguely familiar man drops into the bar seat next to me.
I frown as I realize where I know him from—this is the guy who was staring at Annalise like he wanted to eat her alive. The one who struck me as an in-your-face criminal.
“I’m not Killian’s anything,” I reply smoothly, taking a sip of my champagne and observing the man over the rim of the glass. I set it back on the marble bar. “I’m here with his team—”
“Spare me the bullshit,” he sighs. “I’m friends with Killian.”
“I wasn’t aware he was capable of making friends.”
He chuckles. “Fair observation.” He extends his hand to be. “Carter Black.”
I take his hand, suppressing a cool shiver when he gives it a shake, all the while gazing into my eyes like he’s searching my soul.
“Your friend never called me.”
“You didn’t have the energy to say hello to her yourself. Why would she waste any energy on you?”
Carter smiles, and the sight is unnerving. Much like Killian, the smile doesn’t reach his eyes, but Carter doesn’t seem interested in evenpretendingto be sincere. I get the sense he wears his darkness on his sleeves and uses it to intimidate the masses.
“Fair enough.” Carter jerks his chin around the room. “Are you enjoying the event?”
“No.”
He chuckles. “Neither am I. Nights like these are as tedious as they are boring. Total waste of fucking time.”
“Are you saying you’re not a philanthropist at heart?” I mock.
“I don’thavea heart,” Carter deadpans. “You trying to read the room?”
“I’m a journalist.” My words have an underlyingduh.
“Allow me to help you out. The one chasing Killian like a kicked puppy is Silas. Killian’s enjoyed fucking his investments—without lube—for the last couple of months. That there is the Prime Minister, and the woman on his arm is his third mistress in as many months. His wife is holed up in a psych ward after taking too many pills—don’t repeat that.” Carter goes down a laundry list of people and their descriptions, but my focus remains on Silas. Something’s going on between him and Killian. The air between them is charged with tension and danger.
Rhea mentioned Silas when we met—it seems Killian may have business interests with Silas that stem beyond the pharmaceutical industry.
I’ve had very little material to go on with Silas and Killian, which means I need to dig deeper. I need to go over both of their financial reports and see if I can find a link somewhere. After all, following the money is the surest way to follow business.
When Carter’s finished, I ask carefully, “Isn’t Mr. Cornell also in the pharmaceutical industry?”
