A Knock From The Past: (The Phoenix Series Book 1)

by Emma Vikes

  I was almost too long in my own thoughts as I walked out of my room and into the rest of my apartment. I stopped short a moment later when I realized something was wrong. The living room was supposed to be in disarray, but instead of throw pillows on the floor, they were placed neatly on the couch - too neatly.

  “Do you have maids that I don’t see that clean up your apartment?” Lily asked, standing beside me and handing me the tie she had chosen. It was a silver tie, satin as I touched it. I didn’t put it on yet as I assessed the scene in front of me and tried to calm my nerves that were going into overdrive. The last thing I needed was to freak out.

  “They have a key to my apartment, yes,” I murmured in response, unsure whether or not I should tell her that they don’t come until 10am.

  It was the knock on my door that jolted me out of my thoughts. I rushed to open it and was surprised to see the man that I saw the night I went to Lily’s, the cemetery worker. He smiled at me, and there was something eerie about his smile as he motioned to the shopping bags on the floor. He didn’t wait for me to give him a tip. He turned around and left just like that, but not fast enough for me not to notice that he was wearing the same uniform as the building’s staff.

  So maybe seeing him that night hadn’t been a creepy coincidence then?

  Lily changed into the clothes quickly, and we grabbed a bite of breakfast before we headed to the office. When we arrived, I expected them to stare at us. I knew that there must be rumors flying around about the two of us and the nature of our relationship. They were already aware that I’d been flirting with Lily since she started working there, and it’s been two days since I left the office with her in tow.

  Let them talk.

  It was when we finally got to our floor that I realized they weren’t just talking about the two of us. No, there was another issue at large and security was waiting for me in my office. Lily tugged at my hand, and I hadn’t realized I’d been holding hers. “Art, there’s something wrong.”

  I squeezed her hand. “I think we’re going to find out what.”

  “Mr. Waters,” the head of security – Daniel - greeted me the moment Lily and I stepped in. He looked troubled and unsure of how he was going to deliver whatever news was bothering everyone. “Mr. Jones had a meeting earlier with a potential investor.”

  I vaguely remembered Brandon Jones telling me about the meeting with Ulysses Rivero. He wasn’t a very powerful investor but he was someone whose business was thriving, and it wouldn’t be too long until his company would make it big. Brandon always liked betting on the underdogs, and I remembered how confident he was to get this.

  “Yes,” I replied slowly, wondering where this conversation was heading.

  Daniel sighed and then glanced at the rest of his team. “Two masked men came inside the building and caused quite a stir. But they had one mission in mind, and it was shoot to kill. Rivero died after a fatal shot to the head, but Jones made it out alive - however not in a very good condition. They also left a message for you at the scene, a note addressed to the CEO of Interzone. We’ve sent it to the police for further inspection.”

  Daniel continued to rattle on about every detail, but he lost me when he said that Rivero was dead and Jones had been left in bad shape. I fell down onto the sofa, staring at my hands. “Please leave my office.”

  “But the police are on their way to interrogate you,” Daniel countered, confused as to why I would ask them to leave.

  I clenched my fists. “The interrogation will happen when I want it to happen. Right now I want you all to leave.”

  The shuffle of feet leaving my office was the only thing I heard. I wasn’t sure how long I was staring at the ground. “Art?”

  I looked up and met Lily’s eyes. I wished we’d stayed at my apartment, and maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe I could’ve prolonged it from happening. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to handle this.”

  Lily sat beside me and held my hand. “Art, I want to comfort you right now, I do. But something’s not adding up here.”

  My eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “The meeting, obviously the people who know about it are people that work with Jones or here in Interzone.”

  I wasn’t sure what Lily meant by that. “The only ones who do would be the people on this floor. I know that Jones’s secretary is very nosy and talkative. Jones had been talking about this potential investor for a while too, it’s not a secret here.”

  Lily nodded, but it seemed as if she was still too caught up with whatever theory she was coming up with. “Yes, it isn’t. But it’s also not something that the employees would tell people about. I don’t even know who Rivero is; he isn’t that big of a person to be of interest.”

  “What are you trying to say, Lily?”

  She looked at me with her blue eyes, deadly serious. “They left a message for you, Art. This wasn’t done because someone hated Ulysses Rivero or had a vendetta against Jones. Between the three of you, you’re the one with an enemy hot on your heels with a motive to kill. You said so yourself: they ventured into killing when you were young. It’s not unlikely, Art.”

  I rubbed a palm against my temple. “But I don’t understand - what’s the connection?”

  “I think they might want to send you the message that they’re willing to kill - anyone, for that matter. Rivero’s death will add a stain to your company’s name.”

  “And if they want to hurt me, all they have to do is ruin my company,” I growled, piecing together what Lily was trying to tell me.

  “But there’s another problem.”

  I looked at her. “What?”

  “I think the information about their meeting was given to them by someone here,” Lily said quietly, her eyes darting to the glass walls, “I think there’s a spy in our midst.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Lily

  Art hadn’t been to Interzone for a few days now. No matter how much he tried to deny it, it was clear that he was stressed out with what was going on. I hadn’t felt more helpless than I did at that moment. I had helped him trace his family’s last-known whereabouts but they no longer lived at the address that Art had remembered.

  I wandered around his kitchen. I had rarely left his apartment since the incident with Rivero. I was worried that the killer might manage to sneak into his apartment and kill him. But then again, hadn’t the killer done so already? According to Art, he left a note in his apartment once, meaning the killer could potentially come and go whenever he pleased.

  The thought was unsettling, which made me think of an alternative.

  “Art?” I turned to where he was seated. His kitchen and living room were attached to each other and didn’t have anything that worked as a barrier. It was all open space.

  He hadn’t looked up from his laptop since he’d opened it after taking a bath, nor had he slipped into a shirt, and his body still glistened with droplets of water. If he hadn’t been so focused on his work, I would’ve jumped on him, which was becoming a problem for me. I didn’t want to turn into someone who craved sex.

  But recently, our sexual appetite had increased tenfold.

  There wasn’t a night or early morning that passed that we didn’t jump on each other. That was probably Art’s way of dealing with the stress he was under. Numerous media companies were knocking on Interzone’s door, begging for an interview with the CEO, begging for any statement from Art regarding the death of Rivero.

  “Yeah?” He wasn’t even looking at me, his eyes completely glued to the screen. When he wasn’t screwing me, his attention was on his laptop or his phone and sometimes I wasn’t sure what I was doing around him when it was clear I was merely a distraction from his present problems.

  “I was thinking,” I said and then walked to where he was seated. He finally tore his attention off the screen and focused it on me. “You’ve stated that there was an instance when he sent you a message here, in this very apartment.”

  Art s
ighed and rubbed his temples. “I don’t want to talk about that right now, Lily.”

  I pursed my lips. This was another thing about Art recently. If he could help it, he would run away from the topic at large. Sometimes it was irritating, especially as I tried to piece all the information together, but sometimes I understood where he was coming from. On late nights, when he thought that I was asleep, he would tell me how scared he truly was about what’s going on, how much he wished Julian was still alive to take care of it because he had no idea how he was supposed to. The weight of the company was on his shoulders, and the lives of his employees were too because he wasn’t the only one threatened by his delusional family members.

  With a sigh, I trudged to his kitchen to make something for dinner. I’d been spending too much time in his apartment, much more than my own, and I’d basically memorized where he placed things, and I was now aware that he usually had his meals delivered. He didn’t really care what he was going to eat - actually, if I wasn’t around, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t eat - so I cooked whatever I found appealing.

  I was in the middle of cutting up tomatoes when I felt arms snake around my waist. Art kissed my shoulder, it was light and fleeting but enough to make me turn around. My arms wound their way around his neck. His dark eyes looked at me apologetically.

  “I’m sorry if I sounded harsh, Lily.”

  That was the very reason why I hadn’t left him alone. There was a scarred and frightened man behind the well-kept and tough exterior, and I was the only one he allowed to see him in that way.

  I nodded and then kissed his jaw. “It’s alright, Art. Now, let me go so I can finish with dinner.”

  His head dipped down, and I could feel his lips hovering just an inch above my sensitive flesh. “Maybe we can skip to dessert, love?”

  My eyes fluttered closed when I felt his lips on my skin, his hands gripping my waist. It didn’t take long until he hoisted me up onto the counter and he ripped my clothes off me. It wasn’t that I hated how I was too easily caught up in the moment, but for once, I didn’t want him to pleasure me.

  “Stop,” I murmured when he was about to spread my legs.

  I didn’t even have to repeat it for Art to stop touching me immediately. He peered at me with dark, confused eyes and, for a moment, I regretted saying it. “You don’t want to?”

  It wasn’t that I didn’t want to. It was just for once, I wanted him to feel what he made me feel. I wanted him to be the one pleasured, not the one pleasuring. Even when sex went both ways, when it came to that aspect, I knew how much men liked it when they were given attention, and I rarely gave Art the attention that he deserved.

  I hopped off of the counter and then pushed him against it, kneeling down in front of him and dragging his sweatpants down. He sucked in a sharp breath when he realized what I was about to do. His cock sprang free in front of me, pre-cum already at the tip letting me know that he was ready and aroused just as I was.

  I couldn’t help but moan at the drooling sight.

  Without hesitation, I swallowed his entire length into my mouth, sucking him deep and slow. He was whimpering above me, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the satisfaction that Art Waters was experiencing. I sucked his cock and massaged his balls, even swirled my tongue on his head to lap up the pre-cum.

  It didn’t take long for him to explode inside of my mouth and I swallowed everything.

  “Don’t you have a gag reflex?” Art murmured as he guided me to stand up and stand level with him. I chuckled and shook my head, kissing him lightly on the mouth, letting him have a taste of himself because he had done the same thing to me a hundred times since we’ve been screwing each other.

  Art’s hands were on my waist again, and I could feel his hard-on pressing against my naked stomach. I couldn’t help but giggle and pull away from him. “I thought I had that handled?”

  He smirked. “Well, what can I say? I want another round.”

  I smiled but shook my head and then nodded at the now messed-up ingredients I’d set on the counter before he’d disturbed me. “We need to have dinner, and you need to eat. You passed on lunch earlier, and I’m not taking another ‘no’ this time around.”

  Art huffed in annoyance, but I saw his eyes soften. I grabbed the shirt I had been wearing and thanked the heavens that in the process of our making out, Art hadn’t managed to rip my underwear. I didn’t bother to pull my shorts back on because I knew that after dinner, we would most likely be back under the covers and fucking each other.

  It was when we were having dinner that Art mentioned the meeting.

  “You’re going?” I asked.

  Art tried to look like it wasn’t something that bothered him. “Yes. I’m needed there.”

  My eyebrows furrowed as I set my fork on my plate. “How come I never knew about this?”

  It would have made sense for me to have informed him, not the other way around, because even though I was sleeping with him, it didn’t change the fact that I was his assistant and I was the one handling his emails and meetings and everything else that counted as work.

  Art sighed and then put his fork down. He’d barely eaten, and his plate looked like it was untouched. “Because this was set before I hired you, Lily. Look, it’s not a big deal. I’ll have bodyguards with me, so you don’t have to worry.”

  “Wait, I can’t be there?”

  Art ran a hand through his tousled hair, and his eyes looked like they were pleading with mine, which I didn’t understand. He was the one who had chosen not to go into work and do it in his apartment instead. “Look, we both know that despite the fact that I have bodyguards around me, whoever is behind all of this shit is smart enough to be ahead of us still. I don’t want to risk you, Lily.”

  Every ounce of fight I had in my body completely depleted the moment I registered what he meant by his last statement. He held my gaze, his dark brown eyes a swirl of emotions that I couldn’t put a name to. I wanted to ask him the question that had been burning inside of me, but I didn’t. The probability of stress playing with our emotions, heightening it in a way that was intimate, was a truth that I couldn’t bear.

  “Then make sure you send me updates.”

  I knew what that statement sounded like. I knew that I sounded like I was a clingy girlfriend when I was anything but. I was his assistant or secretary or whatever he wanted to call me. But I didn’t care at that moment. I just wanted to know that he would be alright.

  We finished dinner without adding anything more to the conversation or opening another one. I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted time to wrap my mind around what he’d just told me, how he didn’t want to put me at risk. How many times had he said that to me?

  Why did I take it to heart?

  Art was in his room, probably on his phone or asleep. I think he wanted to get some shut-eye because we both knew he was going to wake up at 2 or 3am still. I’d gotten used to the time difference and could go to sleep at midnight and then wake up at five. Sometimes after a good fuck session, we both end up sleeping in. A fuck session was the last thing on my mind at that moment.

  I briefly considered heading back to my apartment. I’d barely been there. I showered and dressed and ate at Art’s more often and I didn’t have much excuse to head home recently since Art had bought me enough clothes to last me a year. I decided against it and lounged in the living room instead.

  I opened my laptop. It was better that I sorted through my emails now so I could rest tomorrow morning and stress over Art being gone without me. As I scrolled through the emails - which were mostly media companies and talk shows begging to have Art as a guest- a new one popped up, which was surprising. But then, maybe there was an assistant working late at night too.

  I opened it.

  Hello, Lily Stone.

  I want to compliment you for that work you did earlier to Artie. That was seriously hot, Lily. The way you sucked his dick and swallowed everything without gagging. Women like you don’t come a
round very often.

  My blood ran cold as I read it. Fuck.

  The killer saw it, which meant the killer was probably aware that I was in his living room right now and was reading his emails. Before I could read further, another email popped up.

  It was from the same person.

  I’m surprised you haven’t crawled up next to him and tried to make yourself believe that you’re only imagining this email. Well, you’re not, Lily. This is real.

  I’m watching.

  Then the screen went blank, and I jumped back in my seat. It took me a few more seconds to realize that the battery had just died and it wasn’t an act from the killer. I wanted to look around the room for the hidden camera but decided against it. The last thing I needed was to scare myself even more. I headed to Art’s bedroom to find him still asleep, unfazed at what had just happened. I crawled next to him and wrapped my arms and legs around him, allowing myself to drift into sleep.

  The next morning, I woke up to a phone buzzing.

  With bleary eyes, I looked around the room, but I couldn’t find Art anywhere. I checked the time. It was late. It was 10am. That must’ve been the office calling for me to get my ass there. How dare Art not wake me up?

  I expected him to be the one calling me to tease me until I realized that it was Art’s work phone, the one he usually left with me. I answered it. “Hello?”

  “Lily?”

  The voice was unfamiliar to me, but I could hear the panic laced in her tone as she said my name. “Yes, speaking.”

  “It’s Margaux from the creative team. We’ve been informed that something happened in Mr. Waters’ meeting.”

  My heart suddenly started to race, the panic and fear surging inside of me. “What happened?”

  “There’s been a shootout. Mr. Waters is currently in the hospital. You better get there soon.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Art

  Lily was giving me the silent treatment; that was completely obvious. But despite that, I was thrilled with the fact that she came to see me so quickly. She told me Margaux had called her. One of the bodyguards must’ve given the company the news, and it was a good thing that Margaux had thought of Lily. I was in the OR for five hours so the doctors could remove the bullet that was lodged in my shoulder, so I didn’t have time to call Lily and tell her what had happened.