Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45531 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
I don’t turn, but I know Jacob’s looking at me, that intoxicating pride in his eyes. It’s how he looked at me after our original interview.
Clarissa leans back as if my words are darts slamming against her body. Her mouth twists, and suddenly it’s like I’m beneath her, like this whole meeting is beneath her. She stares at me like I’m dirt.
“You’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, girl. You don’t know what it takes to get somewhere in this business. I’ve seen your little website an—”
“And nothing,” Jacob snarls. “You can sit there and put down her work, but we both know it’s solid and thorough. We both know she’s got a real spark for journalism. So don’t start that crap. What are your terms?”
“My…”
Clarissa has become a chastened child under Jacob’s firm words—words that fill me with confidence, that tell me my man’s always going to be on my side.
“You summoned us here for a reason,” Jacob snaps. “What do you want?”
Clarissa glances off to the side of the room. It’s quick, but it gets me wondering what’s back there, or who’s back there. She quickly corrects herself, looking at Jacob with the same hate she leveled at me, but there’s something else. Fear maybe.
“It’s simple,” she says after a pause. “Finish the deal with Metis. Stop delaying. Get the merger done. Both companies will make twice the profit with the combined resources.”
“That’s a strange demand coming from an editor of one of Metis’ publications,” I say.
Jacob nods along with me, giving me good-cop-bad-cop vibes like we’re a team. “There’s nothing for you to gain personally by pushing the deal through. The only person it benefits is Trent.”
Jacob says the other CEO’s name in disgust.
“Those are the terms,” Clarissa says.
“You cared about the truth once. You cared about journalism.” Jacob shakes his head slowly. “Clearly, you’ve stopped, but I haven’t. That’s why I’ve been recording this entire conversation.”
Clarissa gasps, her face turning pale. “No, you can’t. This is all off the record.”
“You broke those rules when you took the photos,” Jacob growls. “I’m going to tell the entire world how Trent Saunders forced one of his editors to blackmail me and find out what he’s hiding.”
Again, Clarissa glances off to the side. Jacob follows her gaze, then meets my eye. Something’s about to happen. I can sense it.
“No, that’s not what happened at all,” Clarissa snaps, her tone getting more irate.
Jacob stands. “The deal’s off.”
Again, a look from Clarissa.
“You hear that?”
Jacob walks off to the side of the room to the door next to the bar. He slams his fist against it so heavily the entire wall seems to tremble. The door creaks in the frame like it’s about to burst off the hinges.
“The deal’s off,” Jacob growls, slamming his fist harder.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Jacob
I hit the door so hard it flies open, the lock snapping with a harsh metal grating noise. I’m not sure what I expect to find, though I know there will be something. Clarissa may have been an excellent journalist once, but she’d make a terrible spy. She kept looking over here, visibly touched by anxiety when I lied about the recording. It was a test, and she failed.
As the door swings open, I realize my mistake. I should’ve brought backup. Trent stands in a small storage room with three men crowded in with him. The lean CEO looks like a scared kid standing with the security guards, each of them wide and muscular, one of them as tall as me. The tall guard has a tough face with a scar zagging from the corner of his mouth to under his eye.
“I’m impressed, Trent,” I growl. “I didn’t expect the personal touch on something as seedy as this.”
“Don’t come any closer,” the scarred man says, his hand near his hip.
I ignore him, locking eyes with Trent. “It could make a man suspicious, all this secrecy and sneaking around. And the blackmail, Trent… it’s enough to make a man think you want to rush the deal through before I find more nasty crap. More than burying stories about mistreated dogs.”
Trent doesn’t know what to say. There’s nothing he can say. Finally, he forces out some weak words. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Save it,” I growl. “We’re too far along for that. Let’s talk.”
“You don’t have to do anything, sir,” the scarred man says, shifting on the spot.
I finally turn to him, looking him right in the eye. “Are you his babysitter?”
The man bristles. “It’s my job to protect his best interests.”
“You should’ve told the editor to be more casual. She’s looked at this door about ten goddamn times since we arrived. Trent, come on.”
I return to the table, but I don’t sit. I stand behind Madison’s chair, as close to her as I can get without giving in to the temptation. Even now, it’s there, a track in my mind separate from what’s currently happening. It’s a song I can’t forget and never want to forget. Touch her. Kiss her. Hold her. Fuck her. Claim her. For life.