“Sebastian, this is completely uncalled for!” Vincent sputters, his face splotched with red.
“What the fuck was that meeting?”
“What?” he says, avoiding eye contact.
“You know fucking what.” I march further into his office. “Human trafficking,” I hiss the words out, planting my hands on his desk and leaning closer to him. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“This is not the place, Sebastian.”
“It is if I say it is,” I state.
Narrowing his eyes at me, he says, “It’s a good deal. An excellent deal.”
“We don’t get involved in that shit.”
“Maybe we should.” He lifts his chin at me. “Once upon a time, we would have.”
“You know exactly why we stopped,” I say, my voice low. “We never should have been involved in the first place.”
“Don’t speak of things you know nothing about, boy.” Spittle flies from his mouth as he speaks. “You were living in dirty diapers while we were running this place the right way. The way it should be now.”
I grit my teeth at his words and dig at my past. “He wouldn’t want that, and you know it.”
“She ruined him!” he shouts. “Wriggled her way under his skin and poisoned him from the inside.”
I grab a fist full of his shirt and pull him half onto the desk, his belly slapping on the solid wood. His eyes widen, and he tries to pull back, but he doesn’t get anywhere.
“Talk about her like that again, and finding a new job is going to be the least of your problems.”
“You don’t have the authority to fire me,” he seethes.
I pull him closer, enough that he can feel my breath on his face. He swallows, beads of sweat rolling down his temples.
“Try me.”
I release my hold of him, and he scrambles to catch himself.
When I open the door to Vincent’s office, heads snap in different directions, looking anywhere but at me.
“Office. Now,” I say as I pass Lauren at her desk and storm into my office, going straight for the bottle of whiskey I keep on a shelf in the corner. I grab one of the two glasses and splash a finger into it.
“Is everything okay?” Lauren asks, concern etched into her face.
“Cancel my meetings for the rest of the day. I don’t want to be disturbed.” I say, taking a pull from my glass. “By anyone,” I add.
“Of course, Mr. Reed.” I don’t even bother correcting her this time. I can’t remember the last time I was this seething mad.
Lauren closes the door softly behind her, and I take a deep breath, letting my head fall back.
I flex my hand, my knuckles stinging, and I inspect the grazes and reddened skin before clenching it into a fist.
How did Deveigne know anything about my parents?
About me?
I should have fucking killed him, the smug bastard. But I couldn’t be bothered dealing with the clean-up.
He wasn’t worth it.