Page 18

A thin thread of smoke swirled around me as I leaned against the edge of my mahogany table, a cigar between my lips. I stared blankly into space, a faint grin twitching at the corners of my mouth.

My mind was occupied with thoughts of Clarice and her pesky little defiance—the stubbornness that seemed to draw me in like a fucking drug. Her ability to stand her ground and be brave in my presence was something that I would always find intriguing.

She hadn’t given a shit about how upset I was, and her eyes blazed with fury, just like mine. Why? Why was she different, and why did her difference affect me so much?

Clarice wasn’t the first woman I’d been with, but there was something about her that I’d yet to name. The mere fact that she had a subtle way of pulling me in was interesting and very much intriguing. I was curious to know her more, to be with her and her alone.

But why was she pushing me away?

My face contorted into a fleeting scowl as I released a puff of smoke, the cigar’s flavors dancing on my tongue.

Usually, I was the one avoiding the women that I slept with, and that was why being on the other side of the table was new to me. It sucked, and I hated the feeling. It was as though the universe was using her to make me atone for my sins against all those women.

Somehow, her sudden avoidance, her cold attitude, and her demeanor made me feel used. It was almost like she had an itch, and I was the one available to scratch. The idea stirred up a funny feeling within me. I couldn’t exactly explain it, considering that it was alien to me, but it sort of…hurt.

Beneath what felt like emotional pain was a glint of admiration. It didn’t matter if she hurt me or not if her change in attitude and subtle avoidance infuriated me. One thing was certain: She had successfully unlocked a feeling in me, and I couldn’t stay mad at her for long.

I drew another round of smoke, my gaze drifting off as my mind became more ensnared by thoughts of the mysterious woman. However, before I could delve deeper into my thoughts, something awakened within me—a survival instinct. It was as though a switch had been flipped on in my head, and fleeting seriousness flashed across my face.

Goosebumps crawled all over my skin, and my senses were on high alert. I was trained to perceive danger from a mile away, to sense a threat even when it seemed rather unlikely. My brows furrowed, and my heart stopped for a moment, my hand lowering the cigar from my lips.

Something was wrong; I could feel it, and it made me fucking restless. My sharp eyes gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window, and faint creases lined my forehead. I was exposed, out in the open, making me vulnerable to a sniper attack.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting clash of glass caught my attention as a bullet hurtled through the window, its trajectory deadly and precise.

Instincts kicked in, and in a flash, I ducked, my quick reflexes honed from years of living on the edge. With a practiced sideways twist, I avoided the bullet’s path by mere inches. The projectile slammed into the wall behind me, the impact sending splintered wood and shattered glass flying across the floor.

The door burst open, and Alex barged into the office space, his gun held up in front of him, ready to spring into action. The two others with him circled over me, their weapons drawn, eyes darting across the room and outside the window.

“Are you okay, Boss? Are you hit?” Alex asked me, glancing in my direction while still inspecting the surroundings.

“I’m alright,” I said, straightening. My voice was low and even, unshaken by the attempt on my life.

He lowered his gun, perceiving that I was out of danger—at least for now. Alex turned around in my direction and said, his tone dripping with conviction, “This wasn’t random.”

No, it wasn’t. I had a lot of enemies, and any one of those fuckers could have been responsible for this.

Alex’s brows knitted together, and his eyes squinted, suspicion creeping in. “Barlow,” he said, clenching his jaw. His tone was quiet yet venomous. “He’s behind this. It has to be his feeble attempt at a payback.”

“But he’s in a hospital,” one of the men with me cut in.

“He doesn’t have to get his hands dirty to get the job done,” Alex explained, his eyes flying back to the window.

Damon Barlow, like me, had men everywhere. He had spies and foot soldiers doing his bidding. Given that I was the reason he was in the hospital, it was safe to assume that this attack was linked to him.

But wait a minute.

My eyes narrowed ever so slightly as a realization hit me. If this were Barlow’s doing, then that would mean that he was out to get me. Knowing the kind of man that he was before this attack today, he must have his men tailing me, secretly following me wherever I went. That was what I’d do if I were in his shoes.

If that were the case, then that bastard or his men must know about Clarice and how close I’d gotten to her. This only meant one thing: I’d just put a giant bullseye on her back, making her a potential target.

Shit.

“Alex, keep an eye on Clarice. Double the surveillance around her house and make sure she’s safe at all times,” I ordered him.

“Sir, the attempt was on your life, not hers,” he said, bewildered.

“This was a warning shot, Alex,” I said, my eyes boring into his. “And if Barlow or any of those fuckers who call themselves my enemies is behind this, then her life is in grave danger.”

He nodded his head and signaled the other men, and they all stormed out of my office. Alone with my thoughts, my anger simmered beneath the surface at the thought of her being in harm’s way.

My fingers clenched into fists, and a deep frown settled on my face. I tightened my jaw, finding comfort in the horrors I’d inflict on whoever would dare touch a hair on her head.

I’d send them to hell, and I’d do that with a fucking smile on my face. But for now, I’d focus on keeping her safe; it was my primary assignment.