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I pick up the teacup, embracing the tea’s fragrance and warmth before taking a sip. Clay’s phone buzzes, and he glances down at it. Impartial to the news he just received, he looks up at me. “Vance has brought back the man who tried to rip your brother and you off. How would you like to proceed?”
Can’t a woman even enjoy a cup of tea in peace?
But instead, I say, “Bring him in.”
This fucker wasn’t hard to find, and after ripping us off to the tune of ten million on an artifact, I’m not at all impressed. People don’t fuck with us and get away with it. Ever.
I grab the gun out of my top drawer and casually sling myself out of my chair. I appreciate the softness of the plush white carpet and my fuzzy slippers.
When Vance greets me at the open doors, holding a man who has a sack over his head and his hands bound, I tsk him to take three steps back, away from the plush white carpet in my office.
“This is the guy?” I ask Vance. Clay is standing behind me with teacup in hand.
The housemaid who was peeking in only minutes ago is nowhere to be seen. Good. I’m not entirely sure she could stomach what she might witness.
Vance answers. “Yes. Did you want to negotiate or—”
I lift the gun to the man’s hidden face and pull the trigger. The sound echoes, and his body drops to the floor. Vance’s jaw tics, most likely a thrill of adrenaline pumping through him from the closeness.
“Make sure the blood doesn’t leak onto the carpet, and I want the wooden floors scrubbed. I don’t have time for shit like this,” I say as I turn and grab the teacup from Clay. “Because I have paperwork!” I yell, deranged, waving the gun in the air. “Don’t disturb me for the next three hours.”
I hear them mumble behind me as they close the two large wooden doors and are no doubt dragging the body away already.
My brother and I might’ve once had fun in a situation like this. Alek, mostly, since he usually deals with these types of things.
But right now, I find nothing fun or thrilling about it.
Autumn eyes come to mind, and I push down the thought of River’s imposing gaze.
CHAPTER 10
Anya
River’s back. I can’t decide whether he is a sucker for punishment or just plain stupid.
We’re at another auction in another mansion. This one involves guns. Not your average buy one, get bullets free either. No, this involves black market guns in bulk. And they always do extremely well. Though, I must confess that Alek always ran this auction, and this is the second one I’ve watched over while he’s been gone. Despite the change, none of the patrons dare inquire about his whereabouts, but I know gossip has spread about his disappearance, which pisses me off even more. Because my personal family affairs are of no concern to them.
Considering the already bad mood I find myself in, I walk around to where River is seated and lean down next to him and whisper in his ear.
“How did you get in?” He turns to me, his mouth barely an inch away from mine, and he smirks. His full lips lift, and I have to remember why I hate him.
Clay and Vance stand behind me, and I know they don’t like him, particularly since they’ve warned me to stay away from him and to not give him my time for the million dollars he paid weeks ago for a chat.
“Why hello, Anya.” River says my name with a slight drawl at the end. I flick my tongue over my teeth as I stare at him, waiting for him to answer my question.
The bidding has started, and it’s getting higher and higher. Usually, it thrills me to anticipate how high it might go. To think about all the beautiful things I can buy with the proceeds. But I’m certainly pissed that he’s here and doesn’t seem to be bidding at all. Who the fuck gave this guy access to my auctions?
“I’ll tell you exactly why I’m here over a drink, perhaps?”
“I don’t drink,” I tell him, and his brow shoots up in surprise.
“Why is that?”
“I prefer my judgment not to be impaired,” I tell him honestly. “It’s how drunken mistakes happen. It’s how people fuck the wrong people.” As I say it, my gaze flicks back down to his lips. He licks them, and I know he can tell I’m thinking about them.
I want to strangle him for getting under my skin so much. Why does he just keep popping up like he owns the place? And why haven’t I appropriately dealt with him like I would anyone else?
“Smart, but one glass never hurt.” He stands, and I pull back as he towers over me. “Shall we, so we don’t interrupt?” He nods to the showcase on center stage as bids continue to increase.
