Page 22 of Angel

“You have a meeting today. What time?”

“I have many meetings, but the one I guess you are referring to is with Cotex.”

“Worth?”

“Twelve million dollars per year.”

“Then you should leave.”

He sighs, reaching for the coffee and cussing when it’s empty.

“Leave this with me. Secure the deal and work on the upgrade. Leave Sophie Clere to me.”

Why do I hate that thought?

“Don’t hurt her.”

I make my thoughts clear, and he raises his eyes.

I add. “There’s enough heat on her now without another death to occupy the cops today. We must figure another way out of this predicament.”

“The truth, perhaps.”

I shake my head and sigh. “Not an option.”

“Why not?”

“Because truth hurts and the memories are all she has left of her family.”

“Don’t go soft on me, Angel. She’s a woman. Nothing more, remember that.”

His gaze is cold. His eyes weary and his heart empty.

Gabriel is a machine, and I doubt that will ever change.

* * *

When I leave him, I head home and change into my suit. The usual attire for a day running the company that changed my life. It gave me freedom. I no longer need bankrolling from Gabriel. My house, cars and lifestyle are all funded from something I created, not him. His work doesn’t tarnish my life in any way other than my past. It ruined my life, and I will never forget that.

Do I blame him? Not really. He is as much a victim as I was. Events ran away with us, and he struggled to rearrange them into an acceptable order. The day Oscar Malone was shot changed all our lives, and not for the better.

Money may help dull the pain, but it’s always there, reminding us both we will never be free. That no matter how much you plan for things, fate may have other ideas.

My heart hardens as I fix my tie, hating the corporate bullshit that will occupy my day. I’m better off without meetings and lounging in my shorts and t-shirt, working from my home office. Not chairing meetings for millions of dollars to throw on the heap of an ever-increasing pile.

My phone buzzes and once again a message pops up that I would be best to ignore.

I must see you.

Shit. Sophie must be spiraling right now, but another meeting with her is not happening. I’ve been burned once; this time I’ll send Ghost.

It doesn’t help that I can’t stop thinking about how she felt in my arms. The bravery she showed in following me and the way she tasted, her skin against mine, her low moans and the way her eyes softened when she stared into mine.

With a sigh, I dash out a text to the team.

The Crypt. 7pm.

CHAPTER 7