Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
“I do,” I whisper.
His twin brother. Kyson.
“Are you not going to invite me in?”
I pull my keys out of my pocket.
“Do you need to come in?” I ask.
Kyson steps away from the door and moves even closer, then he walks past me and stops at the neighbor’s apartment. Pausing, he looks through the window.
“How’s your neighbor?” he asks, and for some strange reason, I can hear a smile in his voice or perhaps it’s a mocking tone.
“I don’t…” He kicks the door in, and I gasp, my hands flying to my mouth. “What are you doing?” Stepping back closer to my door, I keep my good eye on him. I may not have perfect vision, but I know when someone is coming for me.
“Ask Kenzo about it next time because I’m sure there will be a next time,” he says.
“I haven’t seen him.”
He approaches me, grabs my hand, and lifts it between us. “And yet you both still wear your rings.” He drops my hand then leans down into my personal space. “Be warned, he is the most dangerous of us all.” He smirks at me before disappearing into the dark. I notice the neighbor’s door is still partially open.
My heart doesn’t stop its erratic pounding, but I manage to move my feet and get inside my apartment. Even though we both know no door would stop any of these men. As soon as I’m inside, I close the door and lean against it.
I got the promotion at work, thanks to Kenzo and our fake marriage.
But it’s been a lot.
A large workload at the actual office.
It’s all about meeting and mingling with new clients, showing that I’m good enough and I haven’t had any chance to work from home.
It’s been hard.
Harder than I anticipated.
Yet I’m still trying, despite Vanessa’s taunting, telling me I will fail and how she’ll be ready to take over at any minute. To be honest, I think that’s why I’ve still been pushing through.
And to prove to myself that I deserve more.
I can be more than what I currently am.
I have it in me to do great things.
Taking a deep breath and standing straight, I move into my bedroom. My bed is covered in shopping bags full of new clothes. I bought a whole new wardrobe because I knew what I had wouldn’t cut it to be out schmoozing clients, as Jeff calls it, till all hours of the night.
I will be dealing with extremely large amounts of money, and he tells me they must be comfortable around me.
He failed to tell me that these men aren’t just rich bankers.
Some are in “underground” work, and we are in control of their money and have to make it as clean as possible.
When I first found that out, I wanted to quit. But I had already accepted and, to be honest, I know I’m good at what I do. Now, it’s proving it to everyone else.
I pull a little black dress from a bag and tear the tags off and quickly remove my clothes. Thanks to Kyson showing up, I’m late.
And I don’t like to be late, especially when I’m trying to impress clients.
After slipping on the dress, I find some new black heels that I know by the end of the night are going to hurt my feet, considering I live in flats. Scooping up my purse and phone, I run out the door, I lock it behind me as I leave.
As I pass the neighbor’s door, I peek in. The door is swinging in the wind since the lock is now broken. No lights are on inside, and it’s deathly quiet.
I wonder where he went.
I don’t remember seeing him around lately.
Shaking my head, I continue down the stairs to the cab waiting for me. It’s a short drive to the restaurant where I’m meeting the client. He invited the firm out for dinner, and Jeff agreed for me to attend as the business representative. So it’s just going to be me.
As I enter the restaurant, I spot a large group of men sitting around a table near the back of the dining room. Marco, our client, waves to me, then stands and pulls out a seat as I approach.
“You came. You had me worried there, Mayve.” Marco leans in and kisses my cheek. I blush at the contact and take the offered seat. He goes around the table and introduces me to a few people. Some eye me with suspicion, while some simply nod their greeting.
I’m not here for them, though. It’s Marco who is the big hitter. He is a millionaire with no idea how to get his money clean. And that’s where our accounting firm comes in.
“Tell us, girl, what is so special about you that you would have any idea how money works,” a man bellows from the other end of the table.