Treachery

The drive to the office doesn’t take long, my car pulling smoothly into the underground garage while the sun is still high in the afternoon sky.  The last thing I need is to be trapped in the house with Luca and the rest of the assholes in my group. Coming here is a good distraction.

I can’t think when she’s around, and what they’ll do to her will only piss me off if I’m there to witness it.

Thankfully, Gabriel has enough sense to keep a watch over her, although I’d be a liar to claim the easy friendship he has with Luca doesn’t irritate the shit out of me every time he rubs it in my face.

Getting out of my car after pulling into my reserved spot, I cross the lot and take the private elevator up to my floor, bypassing the reception area so I can sneak back to my office without being seen.

Lacey is waiting for me when the elevator doors ding open, her arms filled with a few file folders and her expression twisted with frustration.

I storm past her knowing she’ll pump her short legs to keep up. She’s learned to wear sensible shoes around me because heels are an injury risk when she attempts to match the speed of my stride.

It only took three sprained ankles, two months of crutches, and several worker’s compensation claims that I begrudgingly paid for her to finally learn her lesson.

“I have several messages for you, Mr. Caine, and I’m not sure what to do about the visitor you have in the waiting room.”

Lacey is already breathing heavy as we swing a left into my office, the shades wide open to let in sunlight I have no desire to see right now.

Slamming my palm against the button that closes them automatically, I drop my weight in my chair, steeple my fingers at my chin, and stare at a woman who has a bead of sweat dripping down her temple from the impromptu workout of chasing after me.

Shade descends in the office, only the low light of a few table lamps managing to illuminate the large space.

“First, the messages,” I snap. “Tell me why I should care about them.”

I mean, seriously. Lacey should know by now that I barely lift a finger on any of my cases. Most are left to the lower level associates, and Gabriel handles anything big money.

“Chet Wilcox called about-“

“Don’t care.”

She glares at me. “I’ll have Jonathan take care of that. Second, Aster Pickens-“

“I stopped giving a fuck about him over a year ago.”

A roll of her eyes. “I’ll reassign that as well. Your father-“

“Normally you know what my response would be to that, but call him back and toss him on my schedule.”

Refusing to give that bastard the time of day usually, I have a bone to pick with him about Luca. I’m not sure how to go about backing him off from the hard-on he has for her death, but I’ll think of something.

Surprise widens her eyes, but then she schools the expression.

“Your schedule is wide open. You’ve already canceled everything on your calendar for the next six months. When should I pencil him in?”

Really? I have a flicker of a thought that I should do something about that, but then brush it off as bullshit. We have underlings to handle the daily grind, lawyers who are wet behind the ears and fresh out of law school that care more about this crap than I do.

“Pretend it’s full. But lie and tell him I was kind enough to agree to a quick video conference with him in two hours.”

With that conversation done, I lift my feet to the desk, lean back in my seat, tap on my keyboard to bring my computer to life, and wonder why Lacey is still there staring at me with her jaw slack.

“Is there something else?”

“Clayton Hughes is in the waiting room. He’s been here for three hours and refuses to leave until he speaks to you.”

My jaw tics. Clayton is nothing more than a means to an end, but the asshole thinks I actually give a damn what happens in his case. How he manages to be so stupid as to think I’ll do anything for him is beyond me, but I have to play along regardless.

If anything, he might be good for more information on Luca.

“Make him wait another hour and then send him in.”

She turns to walk out.

“Wait.”

Lacey stops mid-stride, her shoulders going tense in wait for whatever it is she’s afraid I’ll say.

“Has Clayton been using the complimentary coffee bar?”

“Yes,” she groans. “He’s probably already cost the firm a hundred dollars for how many cups he’s had.”

My eyes meet hers, brows shooting up my forehead in expectation of what she better say next.

Another roll of her eyes.

“I already tossed the out of order sign on the bathroom a half hour ago.”

I grin. It’s always better to intimidate people when they’re uncomfortable and think their bladder might explode. It only took me three years to teach her the game.

Everything I do is calculated. And thankfully, Lacey has finally learned the majority of my techniques. It’s why I’m glad she’s of no interest to Jase. Training her has taken way too much of my time and losing her would be a nightmare.

“Make him wait an hour and a half then. The more of rush he’s in to get out of here, the better.”

“Yes, Mr. Caine.”

I don’t like the disgruntled tone of her voice, but I choose to ignore it. Finding someone to replace her would be impossible. The poor woman puts up with my shit on a daily basis and isn’t paid well enough for doing it.

Tapping my fingers on the desk, I attempt to scroll through a crap ton of emails that I have no interest in, but my thoughts keep returning to the house, to Luca, to the fact that she’s currently in the hands of six men who have no issue at all screwing with something that doesn’t belong to them.

Not that Luca is mine. She can’t be. But still...

A little over an hour later and I’m going fucking crazy wondering what the hell they’re doing to her.

Hitting speaker on my phone, I tap speed dial for Gabriel, my teeth grinding as the phone rings far too many times before he answers.

Music blasts in the background, the low din of laughter, poker chips and clinking beer bottles beneath it.

“Why does it sound like there’s party in my house?”

Swiveling my chair, I hit another button to raise the shades again, my eyes staring out over a city that our families practically own. The glass and steel facades of the buildings stretch out for miles, the usual rush of traffic and people milling beneath their shadow.

Eventually, the rest of the guys and I will own the majority of everything I can see. I would feel like a mob boss if our families weren’t experts at white-collar crimes more than the usual hassle of drug ru

There’s more money to be made with insider trading, questionable business practices and the subtle bending of laws and regulations, a skill our fathers perfected when we were kids, their businesses already bringing in billions that we stand to inherit as soon as those fat fucks are six feet underground.

“Because there’s a party at your house,” Gabriel answers, humor obvious in his voice that only pisses me off more.

I hear Luca laugh about something in the background and my eye tics.

“Why does she sound like she’s having a good time? She’s supposed to be ru

He chuckles. “You let me take care of that. Luca’s actually very entertaining when you give her a chance.”