I storm over to them.
At first, she glares at me, which I completely understand. He gives me a tight smile.
“I’m so sorry about what happened in there. No one deserves to be treated like that. I swear I had no idea what he had planned.”
That seems to declaw their resentment.
“It’s fine,” Estelle says, then twists her lips before continuing. “That’s Magnus’s modus operandi, catching people when they’re off guard, then attacking. If I were you, I’d get out now. I wasn’t wrong when I said he was incapable of love. He’ll chew you up and spit you out before you know what happened.”
I swallow hard at that bit of advice.
“Well,” I say, taking a deep breath. “Again, I’m sorry.”
As I continue on, now on legs that are a bit less steady, I see Magnus exiting from the building up above. That spurs me on, and I quickly descend the stairs to the street, hoping there are taxis making their way past. I don’t want to have to walk back to the hotel in these heels, and I’m certainly not taking the car back sitting next to him.
Unfortunately, when I get to the winding street below, it’s nearly impossible. At least before Magnus finally catches up with me. I see him roughly push his way through a crowd of people, and I wander down the street, trying to escape.
“Sloane! Wait, dammit!”
“Don’t,” I shout behind me as I try walking faster. “I don’t even want to look at you right now.”
“Sloane!”
“No!”
“Sloane, you won’t be able to out-walk me, especially in those heels.”
I reach down to take them off, which gives him plenty of time to reach me. Before I can escape, he has my arm in his grip.
“Just listen to me, dammit!” He roars.
“Is this you asking as a boss or my date for the evening?”
“Yes.”
I shake my arm free or at least try to. Magnus just grips harder. “I suppose this is you giving me no choice.”
“If that’s what it takes to get you to stand here and listen.”
“Okay, fine. I’m standing here and listening. So what do you have to say for yourself?”
“I do what I have to in order to protect what’s mine. And that is my sister up there. My methods aren’t palatable to everyone, but then you already know that, don’t you, Sloane?”
“There’s a difference between underbidding an old foe and humiliating your sister, even if you think it’s for her own good.”
“And what about murder?”
I inhale sharply.
“Don’t act as though you’ve stayed here, working with me despite that, Sloane. I think a part of you is secretly excited by that side of me.”
A hundred different retorts come to my lips, but none would ever stick without being laughably dismissed. He’s right. A part of me feels a vicarious rush of vengeful satisfaction about him dispensing with the man who killed his mother.
“Whatever you think you know about me, it’s obviously not much. I have respect for my family members. Even after everything my brother has done, I would never treat him that way. In front of his friends? In front of the person he loved? Never!”
Magnus’s only reaction is a slight tick in his jaw. Ironically, I know him well enough by now to realize that I’ve hit a nerve.
I lean in closer so he can see the disdain on my face. “I would think someone who holds his family so dearly would understand where the boundaries are.”
“Boundaries?” He coughs out a laugh. “Perhaps I should tell you about the man who’d been disowned by his own family and approached me with an offer to pay him one-million euros to keep him from running away with her, which she very much threatened to do. Or the one who took off without so much as saying goodbye once I made it clear that there would be no money coming from me? Or perhaps the man hired by Gabriel to use her to get to me. Sound familiar, Sloane?”
I ignore that jab.
“And what have you learned about this man tonight? Because the only thing I saw in there were two people who obviously love each other. A man who seems to respect and adore your sister.”
“What I’ve learned is that I never take people at face value. They always have a way of surprising you.”
Now, the look on his face is challenging, maybe even accusatory.
I just stare at him, feeling my willpower wane. Not because I agree with what he’s done tonight, but because I know he’ll battle me argument for argument, and neither one of us will give in.
“You should go back up there and apologize. She’s your sister, and one day, if you keep going about things this way, you’ll lose her for good. And will it be worth it?”
Magnus blinks in surprise. I’m sure he was expecting another verbal punch right back. Instead, he gets my two cents of advice, for what it’s worth.
“I’m going back to my suite—alone. I’ll understand if you kick me out and even fire me after tonight. Honestly, partnership isn’t worth it if this is what it takes, sitting by while you destroy even the people you claim to love.”
This time, when I turn around, he doesn’t follow me. Maybe he realizes that I need this moment to myself.
I manage to catch a taxi further on down the street to take me back to La Mer. It’s only once I’m settled in the back that I realize what I’ve just done.
I came to Monte Carlo for one reason and one reason only. To save the lives of my brother and me. Magnus was the one to open me up to so much more opportunity.
I have what I need to take back to Jan and Gabriel. At least I think so. At the very least, I can warn them that he plans on killing them. That ought to earn me some leeway.
So why am I reluctant to use it? Why the hell do I still feel a sense of loyalty to him?
Perhaps it’s not just loyalty I feel. It’s not even admiration or respect. It’s something I’ve never felt about another man before, something deep and troublesomely emotional. I suppose that’s why tonight disappointed me so much.
Dear God, despite everything, I’m actually falling for the man!
I sigh and lean my forehead against the window as Monte Carlo passes by.
My only hope is that Magnus will be as heartless with me as he was with his sister. A painful but clean break.
By the time I get to my room, I’ve already steeled my heart in preparation for my termination notice.
It’s when I’ve finally undressed and started the water for a long soothing bath that I get the call. Almost as though it was timed perfectly.
“Mademoiselle Alexander?”
“Yes, Neville,” I say, recognizing the voice. I suppose this is my eviction notice in preparation for being sent back to New York.
Instead, he surprises me.
“Monsieur Reinhardt has requested your presence at his house at nine o’clock tomorrow morning to work on the Holt Cloth & Fabric case.”
“The what?” I ask, wrinkling my brow.
“The Holt Cloth & Fabric case,” he replies in such a way as to point out he’s just as clueless as I am.
“I see,” I say slowly. “And he wants me to go to his house, not his office here?”
“Yes.” I get no more than that.
Now, I’m wondering if this Holt Cloth & Fabric case is just code for something else. Something I definitely don’t plan on querying the man on the phone about.
“Thank you, Neville.”
“Of course, Mademoiselle Alexander. Did you need anything tonight? Perhaps a dessert or late night refreshment?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you.”
“Very well, goodnight then, Mademoiselle Alexander.”
“Good night.”
I set the phone down and stare at the wall in surprise. So it seems I’m not evicted or fired. And Magnus is actually putting me to work.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Magnus
Sloane is escorted in just before I go for the kill.
In épée fencing, the point
of my weapon can touch any part of the body to score a point, but what fun is going for the leg or arm when I can aim straight for the heart? The practical applications of fencing outside of the pentathlon are minute, but so long as they exist, I’ll practice them.
It certainly helped when it came to Heinz Boettcher, even though that involved nothing more than a hunting knife. But against a skilled and equally murderous opponent, every ounce of advantage was useful.
With an end to today’s training—I do this twice a week, early in the morning instead of going for my run—my opponent is the first to pull off his mask.
“You’re becoming predictable, always aiming for the vital parts. You do realize this is a sport, not training for battle?”
I pull off my mask and grin. “Everything in life is a battle, André.”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Well, you’re still set for the next pentathlon. Until next class.”
My trainer and I shake hands, and I turn my attention to Sloane as he leaves.
She stares at me, namely the sword still in my hand. Even with the blunted tip, I’m sure the thin blade does nothing to soften her image of me.
This is exactly why I had her come her this morning instead of meet me in my office. In training for pentathlons, I’m just as ruthless and determined as every other area in my life. When I go for something, I’m all in.
And I want Sloane.
Last night I didn’t sleep a wink, which makes my fencing performance just now even more impressive. My mind was in turmoil over that damn conversation outside of the White Party. I keep telling myself Sloane just doesn’t understand why I do what I do for my sister, but some of what she said has sunk in too far to let go of.
It isn’t just the issues with my sister that bother me, it’s that Sloane was so willing to walk away. I knew the second I saw her turn around and leave that I had no damn intention of letting her slip away that easily.
She’s mine.
“You requested my presence this morning?” She says.
“You’re early,” I reply.
“I like to be prompt. That usually means leaving earlier than necessary, and thus arriving early as well.”
I’m surprised to see she’s actually wearing a suit, with a matching dark gray jacket and pencil skirt and a white blouse underneath. She even has a sort of briefcase with her.
Considering the time of day, she couldn’t have had a chance to shop for professional clothes, which means she must have brought this suit with her when she came to Monte Carlo. I smile to myself. I love a woman who comes prepared.
“I see you packed for almost every occasion.”
“I assumed most of this trip would be taking care of business,” she says with a straight face.
“Well, let’s get to that business, shall we? I’ll have you escorted to my home office while I get changed.”
“Very well,” she says curtly and politely before spinning on her heels.
After taking a quick shower and changing, I head to my office and find Sloane sitting primly in her seat, almost like a secretary from a film set in the fifties or sixties.
“I thought I would introduce you to the Magnus Empire by actually utilizing your services as an attorney. After all, I do have you here to myself for at least another month.”
She pauses, staring at me for just a moment before responding. “That you do.”
I stare back at her long and hard, so she doesn’t misinterpret the message I was imparting. The slight narrowing of her gaze tells me she gets it.
“Neville told me this had something to do with the Holt Cloth & Fabric case? As an attorney, I’m usually given some preliminary information before an official case is opened.”
“Do you mean to tell me you didn’t at least Google the company before arriving today?”
She gives me a sardonic glare as though the question is stupid. “Of course I did. I was simply referring to the information so readily imparted by the ever-helpful Neville who gave me nothing more than a company name.”
I lean back in my chair to consider her. “Perhaps I didn’t want to taint your understanding of it. What did your research last night tell you?”
“I don’t think you quite understand how the attorney-client relationship works. The client is supposed to tell the attorney what their goal is, and the attorney works with that to find the best solution.”
I laugh softly and lean in, resting my elbows on my desk and clasping my hands together. “Tell me what you learned about the company.”
She stares at me for a moment, as though wondering if there’s a catch. When she’s met with only one raised eyebrow on my part, urging her to speak, she does.
“The name is what first caught my attention.”
“Is that so?”
“Holt, as in Edwan Holt, the Bad Luck Chuck from the casino the other night? Interesting coincidence.”
“I don’t deal in coincidences. I waited for him to come into his inheritance, then I struck. My plan was for him to lose, so I brought in one of the top poker players in the world to go against him. Then I played on his superstitions. Having to look at the grandson of the man he framed for a theft that led to his eventual ruin was just the icing on the cake. Though I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t get some satisfaction from it.”
“So now he’s selling the company?”
“For substantially less than what it’s worth. Just enough to cover all of his debts, not just mine. After that, I suppose he’ll have to actually get a job.”
“So, his employees get screwed all because you want revenge?”
“No,” I say, getting more serious. “I don’t believe in collateral damage. Which is why I called you in today.”
I’m not just saying that to win her back. If anyone is familiar with the rippling effects of catastrophe, it’s me. Just because Edwan Holt is a pathetic excuse for a human being, doesn’t mean others tied to him in some way should have to suffer.
Sloane studies me carefully before responding, as though she doesn’t quite believe me. Then she seems to come to some internal decision and reaches in her briefcase to pull out a yellow legal pad and a pen. I smile, admiring how perfectly old school it is in this digital age.
“What is it you’d like to do?” She asks, with her pen ready.
“Some kind of employee-owned, profit-sharing enterprise. I plan on being a minority shareholder from the start; the rest will be divided among current employees based on longevity.”
“Not seniority?”
“Edwan was in charge long enough for me not to trust his judgment when it comes to who moved up the corporate ladder.”
Sloane’s brow rises, I assume in agreement with that assessment. She lowers her eyes to write something on the pad.
“I also prefer to reward loyalty.”
The way I say it has her eyes rising to meet mine. I make sure, once again, that the expression on my face and the look in my eyes imparts that message directly to her.
“Well, I’m sure the employees of Holt Cloth & Fabric will very much appreciate it. You’ll find your loyalty there.”
So we’re back to sparring then.
I smile and lean back in my chair to continue.
“I’ll want a gradual reduction in ownership until the company is completely employee-owned. Eighteen months.”
“That’s…generous.”
“As I said, my eventual plan is to own nothing. Just in case anyone is wondering.”
She pauses again, taking a moment before looking at me. “I never planned on telling Jan or Gabriel about that, just so you know.”
Now, it’s my turn to stare at her. That stirring in me begins again, something hot and fierce, yet emotionally soothing. The thought that she might betray me to either of them never crossed my mind. The fact that I was so certain of it only speaks to how perfect a partner she’d be for me.
Now, more than ever, I’ve got to keep her here in Monte Carlo.
“The Gala d
e la Croix Rouge will be held this Saturday.”
“Pardon?” She asks, blinking her eyes at the sudden shift in conversation.
“The Red Cross Ball at the Hotel de Paris. It’s the highlight of the summer in Monaco. The prince and princess of Monaco will be there. I’d like you to accompany me as my guest, not as an employee.”
“Does that mean I get to say no?”
“Yes,” I say after a beat. “But I’m hoping you won’t.”
Sloane’s mouth twists. “Should I expect the night to end with you literally throwing your grandmother under the bus?”
“Both of my grandmothers are already dead.”
Her face contorts with horror. “Oh, my god. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It was stupid of me. It’s not even the same thing as what happened last night, I just—”
“Say yes,” I interrupt in an easy tone. I add a hint of a grin. “All will be forgiven.”
Her mouth snaps shut, and her gaze cools as she assesses me. “In which case, I’ll think about it.”
“It is for charity.”
“Which I’m sure is why you purchased the tickets,” she replies in a sardonic tone.
“Actually, my aunt will be there, accompanying me. It’s one of the few luxuries she allows me to spoil her with. I’d like her to meet you.”
Sloane swallows hard as she stares at me with wide eyes. I phrased it in such a way to get her attention. Rather than saying I wanted her to meet my aunt, which could have any implication, I expressly stated that I wanted my aunt to meet her, as though she’s the prize worth showing off.
Which she very much is.
“I…” She seems to stumble over her thoughts before straightening up to her usual regal confidence. “Like I said, I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll need to know as soon as possible.”
She just gives one curt nod in response. “Will there be anything else? With regard to the Holt Cloth & Fabric case?”
I smile with amusement and shake my head no.
The Monte Carlo Shark: An International Legacies Romance Page 23
