Page 39 of Empire State Enemies

“I’ll stand. Gives me a better view. What a lovely surprise this is.”

Her voice trembles, breathy and nervous. “Y-yeah. Big surprise.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since our intimate encounter.”

She coughs, then clears her throat. “Uh-huh.”

“Wanna know what I’ve been thinking about?” I lean in close.

She swallows hard. “You’ll tell me either way.”

“Oh, definitely.” My hand braces the chair arm, breath fanning her ear. “Mostly I’ve been thinking about how satisfying it would be to punish you.”

“What? There’s nothing to punish me for.”

“Isn’t there?” I tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “How does the agency feel about your side hustle robbing clueless men for fun, hm?”

She moistens her lips, throat bobbing with another hard swallow. “You’ve got the wrong girl.”

I chuckle. “Ah, that must be it. You’ve got this cute nerd vibe with those glasses. But take them off and your disguise crumbles.”

She shoves her glasses up her nose even though they’re already as high as they can go. “Ridiculous. I just don’t wear my glasses when I’m out at bars, that’s all.”

I’d imagined this showdown going a few ways. She’d bat those Bambi eyes, all sweet and innocent, feigning ignorance. Or she’d go fullKill Bill, hissing and clawing at me.

I prefer the latter. I like a girl with fight.

She was the only interesting thing about that ridiculous meeting.

The facts remain, Mr. Quinn. You got caught with your Armani trousers down.

Trash-talking me so boldly to my face. Brave girl.

But sadly, she’s going the denial route now. She’ll whimper out some lies about what a good girl she is, how she’d never dream of robbing a man blind.

“Tell me, why target rich guys like me? Just for cash, or do you need some cheap thrills in your sad life?”

Her nostrils flare. “If this is about me bailing the other night, I apologize.”

I shrug. “I’d have gotten bored after a quick fuck in the bathroom anyway. But you know damn well it’s got fuck-all to do with that.”

Her hand twitches as if fighting the urge to slap me. “I’d never have done that.”

I chuckle. “Don’t worry, angel, I understand why you throw yourself at men like me. I saw your scumbag boyfriend on the security footage driving off with my car.”

Satisfaction fills me as her face loses color. She clutches her laptop like a shield from my interrogation.

She might as well haveGuiltystamped on her cute forehead. Was it relationship drama with the deadbeat boyfriend that caused her to mouth off that night? Is he forcing her to run these scams to fund his weed and Xbox addictions?

Doesn’t quite add up. She’s clearly got a real job, seems smart enough to thrive on her own. This petty grifting seems more like a twisted thrill ride, padding her savings with easy cash for kicks.

I loathe women like her, expecting handouts and taking shortcuts. I came from nothing, clawed my way up to build this empire with Killian, all through sheer grit and sleepless nights.

And here she is, batting those eyelashes, thinking she can play me for a fool and take what’s mine.

It reminds me too much of my old man—Mr. Charming himself, duping everyone while he drained my mom’s bank account and dreams. I still remember coming home to no lights or heat because he was out buying drinks for some random woman. People like her hit too close to home.

She worries her lip between her teeth, leg bouncing with nervous energy. Her incessant heel tapping grates on me. I fight the urge to free that lip with my thumb.