Page 140 of Lethal Torture

I stare at the blank screen. “He hung up on me,” I say incredulously to the top of Lily’s head. “The bastard actually hung up on me.”

Removing the pins from her mouth, she raises her eyes to mine. “Respectfully,” she says warily, “maybe you should just call Luke. Whatever has happened between you, he’s a good guy, Zin.”

“God.” I stare daggers at Lily until she colors and drops her eyes. “Is there a single member of my staff left whoisn’tin love with Luke Macarthur?”

Lily’s warehouseis barely two streets from the Quartier. I read Luke’s email on the way, feeling sick, relieved, and confused all at once. The summary throws up more questions than it answers.

Eva, of all people.

Normally I’d speak to her straight away, but for once, I’m not entirely sure what I want to say. And I’m damned certain we don’t yet have the full story.

I’m torn between wanting to shake her and a desire to pull her close and make her feel safe from the sadistic bastards who have clearly been threatening her. I know that Lowbridge is somewhere behind it. I can feel the bastard’s murky hands all over this.

No wonder Luke was trying so hard to get ahold of me.

Had I seen his earlier message about the leak, I actually would have called back, but lately I’ve taken to leaving my phone on silent in my bag. I don’t want to know when Luke calls. I’m too scared that talking to him will weaken my resolve to let him go.

Charlie pulls up at the entrance just past ten p.m. I walk past Anatoly and one of his new recruits, getting little more than amorose nod from either, only to then find both NadjaandEnzo staring at me balefully from behind the front desk.

“What are you doing here?” I ask Enzo, frowning.

He folds his arms and glares at me. “Helping Nadja put the final touches on tomorrow night’s schedule, since you’ve been so far off the damned reservation for the past two weeks that the poor darling was practically drowning.”

Seriously?

From the earliest days of their acquaintance, Nadja and Enzo have enjoyed not only an extremely competitive relationship, but a strict separation of powers. Asking anyone for help is unusual for Nadja, let alone Enzo.

I’m still searching for an appropriate response when Charlie comes to stand on Nadja’s other side, and suddenly I’m faced with three mutinous faces.

Make that five,I think, as I glance behind me to find Anatoly and the new guy both leaning around the door to listen in.

“If we’re not making it clear,” Enzo says, arching an extremely disapproving brow, “when Mummy and Daddy fight, all the kids suffer. Whatever is going on between you and Luke, for fuck’s sake, sort it out. Otherwise, come the New Year, you’ll have a sheaf of resignations on your desk—starting with mine.”

Fuck.

I’ve been pulling long hours at the office ever since the night Ofelia sobbed herself to sleep in my apartment. But clearly, I’ve also been falling back into my old habits, of working on the business without a second’s thought for what is happening with my staff.

The truth is that without my brief daily meetings with Luke, I’m off-kilter. I don’t know what everyone is doing, nor where to begin asking. Somewhere over the past weeks, Luke has taken over the operational side of the business so completely I’ve ceased to worry about it.

But since that night, I’ve stopped briefing him. Stopped the daily meetings, the many small conversations that not only served as feedback and comfort for me, but also kept him in the loop.

Cutting him out was a deliberate decision, an attempt to wean myself, and my business, off the Luke Macarthur habit we all seem to have developed. I’m trying to prepare myself and everyone else for the inevitable end.

I couldn’t hear my own words to Ofelia and not know they applied to me, too.

And no matter how desperately I might wish it was different, my staff are going to have to get to grips with reality, too.

“Anatoly,” I say, “close the front door for a moment. I need to speak to all of you.”

For once, he doesn’t argue, just shuts the doors immediately and comes to join the small group around the desk.

“Sorry I haven’t communicated well these past weeks.” I meet each of their eyes in turn. “Particularly during such a busy period. But we’re facing some changes in the business you should all be aware of.”

They all watch me expectantly. I feel like a rabbit trapped in the headlights.

“As you all know,” I say, trying to keep my voice even, “or at the very least suspect, Luke was hired for a particular reason: to work out who is trying to kill me and who in our organization has been leaking information to help them.”

They all nod.