Page 9

Leonard

“ P lease, tell me you found a solution,” I plead with Oliver as soon as he enters my office.

His scowl tells me he is not in a good mood, and when he sits in front of my desk huffing, I know it won’t be a pleasant conversation.

“I looked at the file you gave me, and, as you already know, the money disappeared.” He confirms but doesn’t answer my request—or at least, his non-answer is confirmation enough.

“I didn’t tell you to look at the files. I told you to dig deep into them and dissect them if necessary.” I answer with the same annoyance I got from him.

As his scowl deepens, I’m met with an aggression in his eyes that catches me off guard.

I find myself struggling to communicate with him lately, and I fear this could start to impact our relationship.

We’ve been friends since college, but this is the first time I’ve felt at a loss as to how to approach him.

“It’s barely over a thousand dollars, and you want me to spend my time on it. You’re a billionaire. Do you really need that fucking money?” he spits, and I lean back in my chair, studying him.

“It’s not that, and you know it,” I say calmly despite the frustration boiling inside me.

“Yes, yes. I know. They’re stealing from you and blah blah blah. The point is that they didn’t do anything else. You lost that money. So what? Maybe they just wanted to demonstrate they were able to steal from the genius Leonard Walton. Big deal,” he minimizes, and I’m baffled.

“It is a big deal! Someone managed to steal from me. I run a cybersecurity empire, and they were able to hack into my system. Can you imagine the consequences if this news gets out? We’ll go down quicker than a shooting star,” I exclaim vehemently.

It’s his turn to study me with a small, irking smile curving his lips.

“What if your empire does crumble? You have your billions; we all do. Is it the end of the world if you shut down everything?” His question is a mixture of challenge and something else I can’t pinpoint.

“Yes, it is. Because you know that it was never about the money. I’m not doing it to amass even more wealth,” I respond.

“Is that true? It seems like you're expanding your existing business. You never seem to be satisfied,” he replies.

I find this hard to believe. We've discussed this acquisition countless times, and I thought he had a good understanding of the deal. It's frustrating to keep having this conversation again and again.

I don’t have time to answer because someone knocks at the door and I welcome the interruption. I’m having a hard time going back to fight him on something that everybody in this company is happy about. It’s like he made it his mission to make me pay for something I don’t even know I did.

“Come on in.” I can’t hide the frustration in my voice.

Trish peeks her head into my office, and a frown appears when she spots the scowl on Oliver’s face. “Is it a bad time?” she asks before stepping inside.

“No, come on in.” I smile at her, hoping she gets that I would rather rip my nails off with a pair of pliers than continue my conversation with him.

She hesitates a moment before a grin appears on her face, and she struts into my office with a magazine in her hands. She puts it on the desk before me and crosses her arms over her chest.

“Raphael’s little sister-in-law?” she asks in a singsong voice.

I frown. “What are you talking about?”

She points a finger at the article in the magazine, and it takes me a few seconds to realize what it is.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I blurt out when I see the pictures covering the pages.

There are three of them, all from the party.

Roxanne and I are dancing, and we look like we are seconds away from ripping each other clothes off.

My hands are on her back, and hers are on my neck, but the gaze we are exchanging is so full of lust and sexual tension that I have a hard time denying I was flirting with her.

“I swear we were just dancing,” I answer firmly.

She chuckles and sits on the free chair across from my desk, smugly smiling.

She is always trying to set me up with a woman because she doesn’t want me to die alone.

Her words, not mine. She’s having a field day with this article.

The bold yellow title across the page says, New Flame for Leonard Walton!

“Yes, I know you didn’t fuck her on the dance floor, but is it serious?” She pokes me for details.

“Nothing. Nothing is going on!” I almost shout. I don’t want her to get any crazy ideas about what is happening in those pictures.

“Come on, Leonard! You can’t convince me you don’t share a history with her. The way you look at each other is not something you can hide.”

The history we share is not exactly the one she wants to hear and not one I’m proud of.

“Are you telling me that the ‘sources near the couple’ are wrong and you didn’t leave together?” She raises a challenging eyebrow.

I scroll through the article and find the part where they describe her entering my limo but omit the part where her car didn’t start.

“Her car broke down, and I couldn’t leave her there in the middle of the night.

She lives in an unsafe neighborhood. I couldn’t tell Silver they murdered her little sister because I didn’t give her a ride home.

” My explanation is far more detailed that I intended, and it’s having the opposite effect on Trish.

Her grin widens. “And the dance?” she challenges.

I sigh. This will sound like an excuse. “A guy was groping her in the middle of the dance floor, and she couldn’t get rid of him, so I intervened.” I hate myself for sounding so insecure.

“Saved two times in one night? What an eventful party!” she teases.

“I know it sounds like an excuse. I swear it’s not.” I hope to be firm enough to shut down her ideas.

She laughs. “I’m joking, Leonard. Who you flirt with is none of my business, but I wanted you to know about those pictures in case you need to release a statement or something. I know you don’t read those kinds of magazines.”

I smile at her. “And why do you read them?”

“Because someone needs to tell you who your latest flirt is. You have to keep up to date.” She shrugs and stands up. “Now, I’ll leave you to your meeting,” she adds, glancing at Oliver, who is still scowling.

For a few minutes, I forgot the discussion we were having, and now that I’m back to reality I don’t know if I want to return to that argument.

Trish walks out the door and hesitates a few moments before closing it.

She looks between Oliver and me like she doesn’t know whether to intervene in our fight or let it go.

It’s clear there is tension in this room, considering Oliver didn’t even acknowledge her presence.

“Thank you for letting me know about those photos. I’ll take care of it.” I smile at her before she is gone.

As soon as the door closes behind her, I move my gaze to Oliver.

“A hacker? Seriously? Do you really want to associate yourself with such scum? You’re the one who pointed out five minutes ago we’re a cybersecurity company. How do you think they’re going to take this? You’re a pain in my ass for a few dollars, and then you fuck her ?” he spits venomously.

I let him finish before letting loose with my frustration. “First, you’re talking about my best friend’s sister-in-law. I would choose my words very carefully if I were you. Second, as I told Trish before, I’m not fucking her. Not that it’s even your business,” I hiss.

“Fuck whoever you want, but remember that she’s still a hacker, and she is the enemy here.”

“She’s a white hat, for fuck’s sake!” I shout.

My tone gets his attention. He straightens his spine and tightens his jaw.

“So what? Are you hiring her now? Maybe she’s the one stealing from you. Have you ever considered that?” He seems to get more and more angry about those fucking pictures and their meaning.

Yes. I have considered it, but I had my answer at the party: I’m not even worthy of her time at a social event, let alone being hacked by her. And I’m her brother-in-law’s best friend; she would never mess with her family.

“She’s not. Don’t even insinuate something like that!” I spit angrily.

Oliver stands up and walks to the door. I look at him, baffled because this argument is far from over.

“Until you stop thinking with your dick, I’m done talking to you,” he says, walking out of the office and slamming the door behind him.

“What the fuck just happened?” I breathe out.

I talked to him countless times without really understanding what was going on.

It might be time to talk to people close to him to see if they have a clue about what’s bothering him.

I’m not particularly eager to go behind his back, but at this point, his behavior is affecting our personal and professional relationship.

My eyes land on the magazine pages, where my face is clearly visible in all its lusty glory. How did I lose my composure like that? In front of Raphael, no less.

I need to stop this mess before it spirals out of control.

“I need your help,” I blurt out when my lawyer answers the phone.

“Jesus, what happened? Not even a hello?” he chuckles.

I don’t even have an excuse for my rudeness. Being angry with Oliver doesn’t justify my shitty attitude with someone else. “I’m sorry, just having a bad day, but I shouldn’t take out my frustrations on you,” I murmur.

He sighs and softens his voice. “What happened? You seem agitated. Did you kill someone? Should we have this conversation in person?”

I can hear the smile in his tone but also the worried suspicion typical of a lawyer doing his job.

“No, nothing so serious. I need you to call a magazine and help me take down some pictures of a woman and me,” I summarize.

The silence on the other side is long enough to make me nervous.

“Are they compromising? Are you or her naked or caught in a sex act?” He is definitely worried.

“Fuck, no! I’m not into public sex or anything like that. We were just dancing at a party,” I explain.

The silence returns, and my worries skyrocket.

“That’s it? What’s the problem then?”

“We both look like we’re seconds away from ripping each other’s clothes off,” I murmur, ashamed.

“Did you?”

“No, but that’s not the point. She’s Raphael’s little sister-in-law. I want them gone!” I spit out.

“Is she an adult? Or are we talking about a minor?” This time I can almost feel his concern on my skin.

“Sweet Jesus, no! She is twenty-five. Who do you think I am?”

“Just asking, you never know. But if you’re just dancing, don’t worry about it. They’ll forget about it in a couple of days, and you’ll be fine.”

My stomach sinks. “I don’t want to leave them out there for everyone to see. I want them gone!”

He sighs, this time in frustration. “Do you want my professional opinion or what?”

“I want you to solve this problem.”

“I’m doing it. If you push against the magazine, it will have the opposite effect.” His stern tone is trying to dissuade me.

“I’m not paying you to do a publicist’s job. I’m asking you to fix this thing and make those photos disappear. Money is not a problem,” I bark.

The line goes dead. I look at my phone, baffled, and call him again.

“Did you just hang up on me? How dare you!”

The anger simmering in my gut is almost boiling over. Could this morning get any worse?

“Yes, I did, and I’ll do it again if you don’t stop acting like a fifteen-year-old,” he states firmly.

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. I’m saving you from a huge mess. You’ll thank me when you sober up enough to think clearly. The best way to make those pictures disappear is to not give them a reason to go viral,” he says before hanging up again.

This time, I don’t call him back. The problem is that he’s right, but those photos are a stark reminder that I should feel guilty looking at her like that.

It doesn’t matter that she is looking at me in the same way.

It’s just wrong to want her in that way, and I wish I could go back to that moment and do the right thing.

“I’m not fucking Roxanne,” I tell Raphael as soon as he enters the cigar room at the Hunting Club.

He frowns. “I’m glad to hear that, but I think that’s between the two of you.”

I know, but I want to be clear with him that I’m not taking my shots with her. I don’t want any misunderstanding about it.

“I know, but this magazine insinuates that there’s flirting between us, and while Roxanne knows it’s bullshit, you don’t, and I wanted to clear the air with you.”

He grabs the magazine and chuckles. “It looks like you’re going to fuck any second.”

I groan. “Don’t, just don’t.”

“Listen, I’m not going to give any credit to this kind of magazine. If I have a problem, I’ll talk with you. And, by the way, she’s an adult; she can do whatever she wants. I can worry about her decisions, be there if she fucks up, but I’ll never impose my will on someone else,” he points out.

I know. Raphael is one of those men we should clone because he’s so supportive of equal rights that he ran for senator to change things from the top.

“But the real question is, why are you stressing about those pictures? You’ve never cared about something so trivial.” He nails me to the chair with a single glance.

I sigh and take a moment to collect my thoughts before answering. There’s a lot going on right now, and it’s difficult to pinpoint a problem—maybe because they’re all equally troubling.

“We’re preparing for the acquisition, which is stressful enough.

But I asked Oliver to look into the missing money, and he practically freaked out.

So now I not only don’t have an answer for that missing money, I have a pissed-off head developer making my life a living hell.

” I look at him and notice the frown deepening on his forehead.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but can you put aside your pride and ask Roxanne for help?”

I look down at my hands in my lap. At this point, the situation is so bad I’m considering it. The only problem is, I don’t know how I’d handle her refusal to help me. In her eyes, I’m the bad guy, the monster to fight, and this thought affects me in a way I didn’t think was possible.