Page 47 of Beg For Me (Morally Gray #3)

I see it very clearly, how low she’ll go to get what she wants. And in her position, with access to all the sensitive personal information she has on every employee in the corporation, the ways she can abuse her power to manipulate people are infinite.

I stand and glare down at her. “ Second most successful media company in the world. McCord Media holds the top spot. And I’m not committing espionage for this company.”

She scoffs. “Don’t be so dramatic. This isn’t a James Bond movie.

I’m not asking for military secrets. All I’m asking for are a few valuable pieces of information here and there.

McCord Media is privately held and notoriously secretive, so any tidbits you can provide would be welcome.

It would be so easy! Men are ridiculously susceptible to pillow talk.

Think of yourself as a modern-day Mata Hari. ”

Though I’d like nothing more than to wrap my hands around this awful woman’s throat and choke the life out of her, I grit my teeth and force myself to remain calm.

“You’re forgetting that Mata Hari was executed for treason. And I can’t believe you’d stoop so low. You’re supposed to be an advocate for the employees of this company, not corrupt and unprincipled.”

She makes a face at me, as if I’m a child who’s acting particularly naive. “My job is to protect this company’s interests. The end.”

“Even if that means putting the company at serious legal risk by engaging in completely unethical behavior?”

She waves that dismissive hand at me again. “We’re getting lost in the weeds. Here’s the bottom line: you have forty-eight hours to consider the offer. If you decline, you won’t receive another raise for the remainder of your tenure at TriCast, however long that may be.”

Her pointed look makes it clear they’re going to make it so unpleasant for me if I don’t comply that I’ll quit before being fired.

“And if you foolishly choose to bring legal action against us, you’ll be publicly exposed as a liar who attempted to engage in a shakedown of her employer for financial gain.”

“A shakedown? What nonsense are you spouting now?”

Her cold gray eyes glitter, and her voice drops to a menacing purr.

“We’re aware of your brother’s situation.

Gambling debts can be so ruinous, can’t they?

Any loving sister might resort to extortion to help.

And now there’s your elderly mother to support.

She’s an odd bird, that one. Once upon a time, there were rumors that the bakery she and your father ran had ties to the Mafia.

As a money laundering front, to be exact.

And your ex-husband…” She tuts. “That’s quite a story.

Embezzlement, coercion, fraud. Well, birds of a feather, as the saying goes.

Everyone close to you exhibits an alarming lack of character.

Except your daughter, of course, poor thing.

A trial would be so hard on her. All her mother’s dirty laundry dragged through the streets…

” Her smile is lethal. “She might never recover from the emotional toll it would take on her.”

I see I was wrong about my assumption that she was dreading this conversation. She’s loving the shit out of it. She’s probably got a clit boner from the power trip.

“Lorraine, you’re a raging bitch.”

“Thank you. But more importantly, I’m a realist. A woman my age has limited options. You’ll understand that soon, Sophia. You’re not a spring chicken anymore either. Think of your future. Think of your daughter. And do the right thing.”

I’m not a spring fucking chicken?

Enraged by the entire conversation, I pull my shoulders back and straighten my spine, staring down my nose at her with all the fury and disgust I feel.

“You’re right. I’m not a spring chicken. I’m not any kind of chicken. I’m not afraid of you, Hartman, or your threats. And if this does go to trial—and it will, because I’ll make sure of it—I’ll wipe the courtroom floor with you both.”

“Really?” She chuckles. “With whose money? Because attorney’s fees are outrageous, and everyone knows litigation is ungodly expensive.

A lawsuit could drag out over years. Many years.

Are you sure you’re in a financial position to handle that?

You could be looking at easily half a million dollars.

And all for a fling with a notorious playboy with the attention span of a squirrel who’s got a trio of pretty young blondes on speed dial for when you’re not around?

” Her cruel smile oozes with satisfaction.

“You really should’ve asked Nick for alimony. ”

I’m sickened by the realization that Hartman has obviously done a deep dive into my personal life.

Carter’s too. They’ve thought of everything.

They looked for all the chinks in my armor, they gathered their facts and laid the trap, and now they’re offering me a honey pot laced with poison and threats of cold-blooded sabotage.

I see it all in a flash. The online smear campaign.

The fake news stories. The hit pieces from “anonymous” sources about my family and my past, which they’ll be sure to make appealingly sordid.

I see in vivid color all the ways they’ll retaliate to destroy my career and my credibility if I try to expose them or don’t go along with the plan.

They’re swinging an awfully big stick.

Mine needs to be bigger.

After a moment of silent deliberation, I say, “I can’t decide so quickly. At least give me until the end of the week. I need to think it over.”

Her tone turns dry. “Stalling won’t change anything.”

“You can’t drop this bomb on me and expect me to make a snap decision. I need a few more days. You’ll have my answer by Friday.”

She examines me with narrowed, suspicious eyes, then concedes. “Fine. Friday it is. But we’ll know if you contact an attorney or reveal this conversation to anyone outside this room.”

That makes me grind my molars. “How? Are you spying on me already?”

She merely smiles. “Be a team player, Sophia. You have nothing to gain and everything to lose by refusing.”

Including my honor, self-respect, and integrity, things she obviously knows nothing about.

I turn and walk out, biting my tongue.

Threats, spying, blackmail, intimidation… Hartman will sink to any low to get what he wants. He and his sidekick Lorraine are counting on me to fold under the pressure. They think they hold all the cards.

Too bad for them I’ve got an ace hidden up my sleeve.

The moment I’m down the hall and out of earshot of the receptionist, I withdraw my cell phone from the pocket inside my jacket.

I hit the red button on the voice notes app to stop the recording, then rewind to the start and listen to the two of us speaking, loud and clear. My lips curve into a tight smile.

If there’s one thing I really hate, it’s being underestimated.