Page 26 of Emperor of Corruption
Before I know it, the end of my workday rolls around. It’s 7p.m., so I start packing up, but pause when Annalise strolls into my office unannounced.
Anna is a beautiful woman. She’s a little taller than me, with a head of gold-coast blonde hair, grey eyes, and a pretty face. Her beauty certainly helps her job, but she’s sharp as a tack and has eyes like a hawk.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she says, pointing a finger in my direction. She sniffs. “I’m unimpressed. My magnificence deserves attention.”
I crack a half-smile. “I promise I haven’t been avoiding you, Anna, I’ve been fuckingswamped. Killian King requested me for a profile, so I have that in addition to the rest of my workload. This weekend was insane.”For more reasons than one.
Her face softens. “Oh, shit. Well… that’s good, right? I mean, Killian King wanting you to do an exclusive on him will bode well for your traction here.”
There’s no bitterness in her words even though we both started working here at the same time, and I was promoted much faster than her. She became a junior staff writer only six months ago.
I want to tell her everything I’ve experienced, about my humiliation, shame, and the way I’m using negative emotions as fuel. I think I could trust her, but also, I don’t want to put her in danger… so I keep my mouth shut. “Yeah, it should be good.”
She tilts her head to the side. “You don’t seem excited.”
That’s because I’m not. I’m horrified.“It’s a lot of extra work, Anna,” I say with a shrug, “but I think it’ll pay off after I’m through the scheduling changes and the thick of it. We’ll just have to wait and see how everything pans out.”
“Gotcha.” She smiles. “Well… drinks this Friday? If you’re not careful, I’ll have to demote you from best friend togoodfriend.” She gives a mock shudder. “Trust me, you donotwant to be in the good-friend-zone.”
“You’re making it sound likebest friendcomes with sexual bonuses.”
Anna’s smile widens. “I mean, if you’re so inclined, I could show you a few tricks. I’m always up for some charity.”
I laugh, shaking my head. I didn’t think I’d becapableof laughing after my recent experiences. Warmth skitters over my skin like rays of sunshine—Anna has a way of brightening people’s days. “You’re a goof.”
“And you haven’t answered my question. Friday. Drinks.” She pauses. “In case you’re wondering, the only correct answer isyes, please.”
“How aboutyes, daddy?” I quip.
“Usually I hearmommy, and those hookups don’t last very long, but I suppose it’ll do.” She beams. “If you cancel on me again, I’mknocking down your apartment door with a crowbar and dragging you to the club in whatever you happen to be wearing.” With that, she flits off, whistling under her breath.
I head downstairs, eager to return home and order in dinner. I’m in no mood to cook, and I could use some comfort food, so I’m thinking of grabbing Indian.
I barely get to fantasize about samosas and garlic naan before a hulking figure shadows my path, just as I’ve stepped onto the sidewalk.
Afamiliarfigure. Killian’s guard dog, Locke. I stumble back when he blocks me, all of the NYC noise fading into the background as my focus hones in on him. Ifhe’shere, does that mean…?
I glance behind him, where alimoidles on the curb, windows tinted. IsKillianin there? Did my refusal to accompany him for dinner actually result in him accosting me at my place of work?
That seems too far for him, but considering his recent track record of resorting to coercion and force, it isn’t. I glance around the street frantically, wondering if I should make a break for it.
“Miss Stewart,” Locke says. “Mr. King has invited you to join him for dinner tonight.”
I swallow. Locke’s words don’t sound like a request. “I’m afraid I’m unavailable.”
Locke nods solemnly. “That’s unfortunate. He’s quite looking forward to seeing you. In fact, I’ve been instructed to bring you directly to him.”
The subtext is clear; with or without my compliance.
“No,” I say. I mean for the word to come out strong, but it’s tremulous. The memory of what transpired the last time I was in a room with Killian is jarring, and my ass is covered in dark blue welts because of it. I want nothing to do with him—I can barely stomachthe thirteen interviews we have to go, let alone adding anymoretime with him to my calendar.
Locke’s eyes harden, and his jaw tightens. “I don’t believe it was phrased as a request. Please, get in the car.”
“No,” I repeat. “We’re in the middle of a crowded city street, outside my place of work. You can’t force me to do anything—”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Locke’s voice has lowered to a haunting whisper. “If you decide to make a scene, I’ll have to resort to using force. Let me assure you, I have been trained in ways you couldn’t fathom. If I press down on your vesuvian nerve, you’ll lose consciousness. The car is ten feet away from us—getting you into it then will be no trouble at all. Could it attract some glances? Maybe, but probably not—New Yorkers are notoriously desensitized—but even if it does, I could easily explain the scene away as you having a fainting spell and me taking you to the hospital.”
He takes a step back. My heart hammers painfully in my chest. My ass pulses with each beat of it. A mixture of helplessness and fury lights up my veins, making me want to fight and scream, but Locke is right.
