Page 108 of A Forbidden Arrangement

I turn to Mrs. Rodriguez, who’s been spearheading this acquisition for the last two years. Her brows lift like she has no idea what’s going on for a second before tilting her head and hesitantly saying, “The data is correct. It’s what we calculated for.”

“You heard her. Let’s move on.”

Her shoulders drop as the tension leaves her like she just answered the teacher’s question correctly.

The meeting continues, and I go back and message Dhalia.

Me:

Admit it, you like it.

Dahlia:

I plead the 5th.

Several minutes pass before her reply comes through, and a rumbling chuckle escapes my lips.

Several gasps sound from around the table. Each person’s mouth opens in absolute shock as they stare at me.

“Continue.” I keep my voice flat and cold, and it settles everyone back to normal.

Me:

I have ways to make you talk.

I check her location again. This time, the small blue dot is moving down the street. She’s even closer now.

The man on my left has leaned in closer, so focused on my phone he doesn’t notice me looking at him. It’s not until I click the screen off that his gaze snaps to mine, his face going white.

“What are you looking at?”

He swallows hard and begins to stutter out his response, but my phone buzzes again, and I lose all interest in him.

Excited to see if Dahlia took my bait, I don’t bother to hide the fact that I’m not paying attention to the meeting and unlock my phone.

Multiple pictures are attached, but the brief moment of excitement at the thought of what she sent me plummets like a rock through my stomach and onto the floor as I open the first one.

The image was taken from at least thirty feet away. Dahlia smiling as she sorts through a tray of flowers. The next photo is of her smiling at Marco. The next is her carrying a tray of coffee. Nausea climbs the back of my throat with each one I open.

Unknown:

You took away what mattered to me most. Now you’ll learn how that feels.

Me:

If you fucking touch her, you’re dead.

My chair clatters to the floor with the force that I get up. There’s a vague impression of my name being called, but the noise around me has been muffled. My vision blurs around the edges, my world tunneling in. The only thing that matters is keeping Dahlia safe.

The elevator is already opening when I get there.

“Get out,” I yell at the men chatting distractedly. They scramble out of the way, and I take their place in the car. The seconds between floors feel like minutes.

My fingers tremble as I hit Dial. The phone is slick in my grip. My lungs can’t find air. Each ring drives a blade of fear deeper up my spine.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?”

Air rushes out of me when I finally hear Dahlia’s teasing tone.It’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay.