Page 86 of Only the Devil
“Taking what I want, remember?” she murmurs against my skin.
The morning light filters through the curtains, casting everything in gold, and I think about what she said—about choice, about controlling your destiny. Watching her take charge, seeing the strength in her eyes, I realize she’s already proven her point.
We make our own choices. Maybe failing a physical wasn’t a choice, but my actions certainly have been a choice. And this—us, right here—is the best damn choice I’ve ever made.
Later, as we lie tangled in the sheets, her head on my chest, I press a kiss to her hair.
“So what does your horoscope say about today?” I ask.
She laughs, the sound vibrating against my ribs. “Haven’t checked yet. But I think it’s going to be a good day anyway.”
“Even without the stars telling you so?”
“Especially without them.”
Chapter 28
Daisy
“Daisy, Sterling wants you in his office. Right now, please.”
By the time I look up, the assistant’s already gone.
Weird.
I step out into the corridor, listening, but the low hum of the air conditioner blasting through the ceiling vents is all I catch. The thick carpet drowns steps, and most of the staff are in offices with closed doors.
I head on to the stairwell, choosing the stairs to the fourth floor. The square glass screen on the recently installed security camera catches my eye, and I wink, then blow a kiss. Sure, Jake doesn’t work alone, but Thompson knows Jake and I are together.
The heavy stairwell door slowly closes behind me, and once again, I’m met with an eerie silence. It’s a reminder of why I prefer to work from home. There’s something unnerving about a quiet office environment. Like, if you have to come into an office, make it fun like in the classic The Office film, with the weirdly dressed short-sleeve button-down staff in cubicles with fabric walls plastered with photos of their real world lives.
Sterling’s assistant’s desk is vacant, but his office door is open. Plastic water bottles are grouped together on his meeting table, a round table placed on the opposite end of the office from his executive desk.
The rumble of a masculine voice I don’t recognize has me slowing my steps, and then Phillip appears, his gaze clocking the empty reception desk and then me.
“Daisy! There you are. Come in. I’ve got someone you must meet.”
I force my best smile. It might be my imagination, but I’m fairly certain Phillip grimaces as he clocks my outfit. Whatever, dude.
I’m in a black calf-length skirt and a black long-sleeve sweater because it’s cold as balls in this office, but that’s not why he grimaced. No, I’ve gathered he’s not one for the black military boots I favor. That’s fine. I believe he looks like a tool in his pointy shiny leather shoes, so there.
“Ahmed, this is our resident genius. The secret weapon I was mentioning. Chief architect of the ARGUS AI system. Absolutely brilliant. We lured her away from ARGUS with an offer she could not refuse to become our CTO. With her system in place, our forecast models will be unbeatable.”
Barf.
And also… Ew. Just ick.
I force my legs forward across the threshold, hand extended, but I quickly withdraw it because the way the man with the caterpillar-thick black eyebrows and a shock of thick dark hair is looking at me, I don’t think he wants to touch me. The man beside him is wearing a red and white checkered headscarf and a tailored suit.
I settle for holding my hands behind my back, a polite smile plastered on my face.
“Daisy Jonas, this is Ahmed Al Nasser and Khaled Al Rajhi. They’re potential investors. Your ears may have been burning because I’ve been telling them all about you and your plans for our proprietary market forecast system.”
“It’s nice to meet you both,” I say, lying like a lying liar who lies.
Khaled, the man in the headscarf, says, “I’d like to hear more about the system you are developing, but I want my tech team on the line. Can we arrange a conference call next week when I’m back in Saudi Arabia?”
“Of course,” I say, offering the expected professional response.
