Page 7

7

VAUGHN

T he prick who did this better hope I never find him. I’ll rip his fucking head off and kick it to the dogs. How dare anyone think they can come to my home and scare my woman?

I’m white-knuckling the steering wheel as I drive through the busy New York morning to our office. After an interview with the police and a short stint at her parents’ place, Claire seems much calmer than when we stood beside her vehicle.

I’m happy to see it. She shouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit at all, and with me as her protector, she never will.

“Do you think they’re right?” Claire’s gentle voice snaps me out of my fury.

“What’s that?” I don’t look away from the road, afraid she might see my anger. “I disappeared there for a second.”

“The cops.” She sighs, no doubt noticing my fury. “Do you think it’s just kids being vandals?”

“Sure.” I try to console her, but I’m going to fall flat if I try to further the lie.

We’re in New York, and a fresh set of tires gets slashed a couple of times an hour. I’m sure the cops had good intentions when they came up with the theory of rowdy teens causing havoc, but I can’t disregard the fact that the knife came from the restaurant we were sitting in. While we ate, drank, and fucked, some piece of shit made his move.

It’s too well-thought-out to be some hooligans getting their kicks on someone else’s misery.

“So, you don’t,” she says glumly.

“I don’t know what to think.” My first bit of honesty so far. “But what I can tell you is that it won’t happen again.” I’ll make damn sure of that.

“And can’t that be enough to put it behind us for now?” She rests a hand on my leg. “No good’s going to come of being this angry, Vaughn.” She pauses, and from my periphery, I see a naughty smile trickle over her face. “I mean, Mr. Valentine.”

It makes me smile and soothes my burning temper.

“Fine, I’ll try not to think about it anymore.” I turn into the office parking lot. “You’re right, anyway. Why think about some mystery person when I can daydream about you until tonight?”

“Now you’re getting it.” Claire winks at me and lazily drags her hand over my cock. It thickens instantly, and her punishment would’ve been finishing what she started, but there are way too many people rushing through the parking lot to get inside the building.

We leave the car and head inside, taking the elevator to our floor with the stoic seriousness a workplace expects. I walk with Claire to her office, and as much as it aches in my marrow to leave her without a kiss, I stay strong and head to mine.

Once inside and seated in my chair, my secretary comes in and gives me a rundown of what my day entails. The same old business, involving meetings with different department heads, a chat with Victor about a budget increase for the marketing department, and sitting in on one of Vance’s meetings.

“Oh,” my secretary Suzy says before slipping out the door. “And don’t forget that you’re meeting with Joel Abrahams at five.”

I’ve never smiled at having to terminate someone from the company. It’s a sorry business where no one walks away any better than before. This time, I can’t help myself.

If Joel Abrahams had not succumbed to greed, he would have never been ousted from his seat. And if he were still here, Claire’s perfect, round behind wouldn’t be planted in it now.

“Right, yes. Joel’s severance. It’s gonna be good to be rid of him once and for all.” Not that he’s been much of a thorn in my side since we fired him.

Today’s meeting was at his request, and Victor insisted I take it. But I’m certain it won’t go the way he thinks it will.

Hours fly by as I get on with my day, and before I know it, Suzy’s back in my office with a folder in her hands. “Joel’s in the lobby. He should be up in a minute. Here are the notes you requested.”

“It’s five already? I almost can’t believe it.” And it isn’t because work kept me busy. Five o’clock means one last conversation before I get to have Claire in my arms again.

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” Suzy places the folder on my desk. “Is there anything else you need from me?”

“No, thank you. You’re free to leave whenever you’re ready.” I grab the folder and thumb through the first few pages. But something catches my eye on one of them—a messy divorce that resulted in Joel throwing a brick through his ex-wife’s living room window.

It’s crazy. Don’t even think about it . My logical mind screams, but the other half turns in a different direction. Prone to violent outbursts when he’s upset, what if Joel Abrahams had something to do with Claire’s wheels?

A few minutes go by, giving me enough time to glean the most important information in Joel’s file. Not a minute too soon, it seems, and Joel steps into my office with a shit-eating grin plastered over his mouth. He dressed up for the occasion, wearing a black suit and red tie. His hair is neatly combed in a thinning side path, and the only stubble on his face is a five o’clock shadow.

“Vaughn,” he greets, walking over to me. Hearing my name out of his mouth feels an atrocious lack of respect. In the five years I’ve worked here, he’s never called me anything other than Mr. Valentine, so maybe there’s more reason to smile by him getting axed.

“Joel.” I stare at him straight-faced, showing no signs of my suspicions. “Have a seat, let’s get started.”

He sits, kicking one leg over the other. “You know, I could sue you for declining me a worthwhile severance.”

His threat might have scared me under different circumstances. He’s good with numbers, has a semi-decent understanding of the law, and knows how a company is meant to operate regarding terminations. He’s done enough of them to know what goes into them.

“You could,” I say calmly.

I want to see where this train of thought is going to carry him before I deliver my death knell.

“And I will.” He rests one hand under his chin, stroking it with his thumb to convey seriousness. “I worked for this company for nine years. I deserve a decent severance package. From my calculations, oh, let’s say, eight hundred to a million.”

“More than reasonable.”

“So?” His brow furrows in frustration.

“So, what?” I force my face to remain neutral, doing everything in my power to keep from smiling.

“Get your fucking checkbook out and start writing it up,” Joel hisses.

“Oh. No, I’m not going to do that.”

“What did you just say to me?” He drops the hand and sits forward in his seat, flexing his chest in some failing intimidation tactic.

Mocking a man with violent tendencies isn’t the smartest thing I could do, but damn is it fun.

“See, Joel, it would have been a reasonable assumption and I would have paid it fairly had you not stolen from our company. It’s all in this folder—proof of every transaction you made from our accounts into some offshore bank.” I slide the file over my desk to him, but he doesn’t need to look at it to know I’m right. It isn’t some smoking gun in case he comes running back with his lawyers. Valentine Group was very clear about why he was being dismissed from the start.

“Ninety-seven thousand, three-hundred and forty-two dollars, and twenty-seven cents.” I list the exact amount he stole from us. Joel’s eyes widen and his jaw drops, realizing he set up and walked into his own trap. “You can thank Victor for not wanting the bad press that comes with a trial, but your sticky fingers pocketed your severance from the day you started working here.”

“You can’t … I’ll call my lawyers, and I’ll…” he stammers, searching for a way to fight back.

“You’ll get out of my office, get in your car, and go home. You’ll put your time at Valentine Group behind you and go on doing whatever it is people in your position do. And you’ll be grateful that you were given an opportunity to move on because if you come after us, Joel, we will destroy you.”

“This isn’t the end of this, Vaughn.” Joel stands and makes his way to the door.

“For your sake, Joel, it better be.” I give him a few seconds to walk before launching out of my chair and following.

There’s no way I’m letting this psycho wander through my office unattended, especially not when Claire’s alone in her office.