Working With The Devil.

r that carried the crushing physical weight of a lead pipe in the heavy stillness o

eamed at me to check the screen, to see what fresh disaster my father was frantically messaging me about. But I kept my hands flat against the polished mahogany of the table, my fingers locked

ered, his face draining of all color until he looked like a sheet of fresh printer paper. "The security breach is internal,

my chest with a terrifying, clinical precision. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed himself away from the head of the table and began to walk. His footsteps made no sound

of cedarwood, expensive rain-washed wool, and raw dominance flood

fascination that sent shivers racing down my arms. "A regular novice would not have the high-level security clearances requir

tegy sheet I had edited earlier. He lifted the paper, his gaze scanning my handwritten

ling off his tongue like slow poison. "Far too brilliant for a junior coordinator who is supposed to be fet

te, foolish instinct to protect my family's legacy from the inside, I had laid

ensive indignation I could muster. I forced myself to project the exhausted, insulted

brief you sent out to the department at two o'clock this morning. You are the one who constantly lectures us about knowing our opponent insi

way. He did not smile. The polite, detached mask of corporate indifference he wore for the rest of the world was

is head slightly toward the terrified part

ommanded, never breaking eye contact w

d, horrified glances as they practically tripped over one another to escape through the glass doors. The heavy soundpr

y desk, crossing his long legs, his posture appeari

nating. And if I were to pull the server logs and your individual workstation history for that two o'clo

power in existence that our IT department's automate

kles lightly grazing the side of my neck as he guided me backward. I gasped softly, my heels catching the edge of the floor-to-ceiling window behind me. He

t my cheek. "Or else you are breathtakingly, catastrophically stupid. I haven't quite decided which

d animal, waiting for the devastating blow to fall. Waiting for hi

racing the sharp line of my jawline wit

nce you understand their numbers better than anyone else in this building, you are no longer just my assistant. You are officially my lead financial

to federal investigators, he was promoting me to the position of chief executi

slipped my thumb down into my pocket, my fingers flying blindly across the glass screen to silence the notification,

as a senior director on our own board. He sold our blueprints dire

had doomed my family's company had not come from Vance's side, nor h

hands resting firmly on the glass on either side of my head. "Every last brick, every last share, and every last executive. And when