Page 79 of Handsome Devil

“Tate!” I called.

No answer.

I slammed my fist onto the ancient wood. “Tate!”

Nothing.

This, I understood, was a statement.

My husband’s way of telling me I could have the orgasms and the private chefs, the lavish luxury of his lifestyle, his expert tongue, his thick cock.

But I could never, ever have his heart.

The question Tate left unanswered—what happened to the body in the panic room—answered itself rather promptly.

Ten hours after I found Tate leaning over him in the Hamptons, Nolan Duffy’s body appeared floating in Lake Michigan, of all places. Bloated and splotched but identifiable. Mafia deal gone wrong, the six o’clock news speculated.

Duffy had a black thorn sewn to his forehead and words engraved on his cheek with a sharp knife.

Two down.

One more to go.

“Thank you for coming in.” I plastered a forced smile on my lips as I sat in front of GS Properties’ worst employee to date, Kevin.

Kevin jerked his chin in a nod, his foot bouncing at ninety miles per hour. His eyes were red, and his brown shaggy hair was a mess.

He was in his midtwenties but didn’t look a day over eighteen. The only way I could justify calling him in here and terminating his employment was that I’d learned he was living with his mum on the Upper West Side. He didn’t have a family to feed, nor bills to pay.

“Well, uh, I didn’t actually have any choice.” Kevin scratched his unkempt stubble, studying me warily. “I know why I’m here. You’re firing my ass.”

“Actually, this is an executive decision, not mine.”

“What’s the difference?” he spat out. “Am I not being kicked out of the company or somethin’?”

“Your employment is still terminated,” I said carefully. Jesus, this was more awkward than the drive home to Manhattan with Tate from the Hamptons. “But I’ve arranged for your terms to be more favorable.”

I allowed myself to tweak the termination process since I was the designated person to carry out the actual sacking. If Tate had a problem, he was welcome to fire me. I’d sue him for wrongful termination and retain the best lawyers in town. After all, I was now married to a billionaire.

“Uh, can you say that in English?” Kevin blinked slowly.

“We’ll be giving you a generous severance package of twenty thousand dollars as well as a two-week salary continuation.”

“Oh.” His eyes remained dim. “Thanks, I guess.”

Kevin did not behave as though he cared about this job at all. He missed more days than he attended, arrived late, and was rarely focused.

My eyebrows knit into a frown. “Were you expecting something else? Anything that could’ve made the process easier for you?”

Kevin rolled his tongue along his teeth. “So…this is pretty embarrassing, but actually, my mom is going through a tough period. My dad left her for another woman.” He bit down on his lower lip. “Fuck, I can’t believe I’m telling a complete stranger.” He shook his head, chuckling humorlessly. “That woman is my former nanny. And my parents didn’t have a prenup, so my mom, who stayed home with me, definitely got the short end of the stick. Since I’m no longer a minor…” He trailed off. “Anyway, she became very depressed. Couldn’t hold on to the shitty job she found. I decided to move back and have been taking care of her since. Recently, it felt like she was on the brink of something bad. Like, suicidal or somethin’. I’ve been watching her andtrying to keep this job. I barely sleep. I eat mostly junk since I don’t have the time. I just…” He rubbed his palms over his face, falling forward, elbows on his knees. “I’m tired of juggling this shit. When I first got the job at GS Properties, I thought I hit the jackpot. I wanted to work my way up to management. And I fucking hate my dad for putting me in this position. It feels like I went to Emory and busted my ass for nothing.”

I reached forward and put my hand on his across the table, knowing it was against protocol and not giving a toss all the same. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“I started out strong here.” Kevin screwed the bases of his palms into his eye sockets. “I got the hang of my job. My boss liked me. But then Dad dumped Mom, and everything fell apart. I can’t just leave her like this. I’m an only son, you see. And fuck my dad for what he did. Seriously, he thinks he’s some kind of a saint for waiting until I was a grown-ass man. But yeah, it screwed up my entire performance. I’m agitated and bitter and just…I don’t know.Fucked. I feel like I’m fucked.”

GS Properties was a huge corporation. We could bloody afford therapy sessions—or at least vouchers—for those who needed it. More support for struggling workers. Easier access to time off for people with special circumstances. I’d only been in HR for a short period of time, but I’d already seen enough to realize Tate ruled this place with an iron fist and screwed people out of their basic rights in exchange for adding GS Properties to their résumé.

Long, unpaid overtime. Measly days off. Draconian contracts.