Carlyle
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out? I’ll admit, your little scheme was inventive, but I’m honestly curious what you thought would happen.” Leaning against the table, I frowned as Jerome simply glared at me silently, but his normally dark complexion was a pasty pale. “The errors in the transcripts idea was smart. I’ll give you that. If only you’d hid your ‘secret’ bank accounts a little better.”
“We’re about to go live, boss.” Pursing my lips thinly as I glanced behind me, I nodded curtly, and Jerry held up his hand to count down on his fingers. I stood out of the shot, of course. The last thing I needed was to be identified. It didn’t stop me from being here, have any reflective surfaces removed, and enjoying myself.
Well, enjoying that I’d finally caught these guys— torture was a bit in bad taste. I had no problem killing someone outright, but it took a special kind of person to enjoy torturing, and I wasn’t that.
Jerry is, though, so it’s all good.
Gesturing to him, I sat on the table fully and crossed my ankles. The responsible thing to do right now is, at the very least, to watch what was about to happen. My father always said no to make someone do something I wouldn’t do, but in this business, underlings were important. There was no getting around that fact, and the happier I kept my employees, the better work they did for me.
Obviously, not these five translators, but the rest of them were happy with their jobs. Of course, they all understood who they were working for and not to cause trouble.
That was the point of this, to not cause me trouble because it’d be nothing compared to what I would do. Millions being stolen from me, my father, and my brother . . . that part didn’t bother me. I despised the gall, the absolutely huge ballsack, it took for someone to actually do it.
What’s more was the simple fact that this wasn’t about a confession. I knew all I needed to at this point.
Although, Illya had seemingly astounded herself with how much she’d retained.My mind flung back to barely half an hour ago, and I could picture her strutting around all happy with herself. She did fantastically, and it was almost poetic the songs of praises these men gave her on her accent, dialect, and complete understanding of the language. I hoped she found the validation she wanted, because the things I had planned for her were no small feats, and I wanted her to excel.
A faint whimper broke the silence, and a harsh, metallic grating gyrated against my eardrums to break my reverie. Focusing on the panic dripping from Jerome’s upper lip, my eyes narrowed into slits, but he just hung his head in defeat.
How boring was that?
Jerry checked the computer one last time, offering me a nod at my silent question, and I leaned back to take a deep breath.
“Why’d you do it?” Breezing past me with a pair of pliers dangling from his fingers, Jerry’s question bounced off the concrete. Jerome didn’t twitch at the abrasive sound, and I scanned him from head to toe. The guy had everything going for him— a pretty girlfriend, international travel, money in the bank. He wore nice suits and had someone else clip his toenails, for Christ’s sake . . . yet, it wasn’t enough. “I guess it doesn’t matter. I don’t care why you did it.”
I kinda want some pizza.Apparently, even this satisfaction couldn’t keep my attention for more than a few minutes, and I sighed in defeat of my own. Hopping off the table, I left the room and quietly shut the door behind me. The basement of my headquarters was mostly storage unless I needed a room or five for things like this. Walking the bland, concrete hall towards the elevator, I stuffed my hands into my pockets and tossed back my head to groan lightly.
“As if it’s anything I haven’t done before . . . ” My mumble smacked me back in the face, and I rubbed my jaw before punching the button with my thumb. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, I quietly debated dialing Theo’s number as I waited. “I mean, I do have other security.”
Illya is probably fucking him right now, anyway. Shaking my head slightly, I stuffed my phone back in my suit pants with a sigh. It truly was too bad Marcella couldn’t keep her mouth shut— I liked her enough to screw around, to actually take time out of my business to mess with her.
Granted, that didn’t take much, but it was what it was.
Riding up to the ground floor, I headed out to the parking lot and pulled a pack of smokes out of my jacket. Glancing up as I sparked my lighter, my eyes followed the line of the sun rippling against the brick until nothing but shadow remained. Pretty soon, the trees would start changing color, and the grass would start dying.
“Are you already done, boss?” My gaze flickered to Carl as he sauntered over, and a slight smirk twitched my lips. He flipped back his long, Fabio-esque hair before pulling it into a ponytail, and I took a deep, toxic drag off my cigarette. “Where you wanna go?”
“I was thinking of grabbing pizza. I’d order in, but there’s no fun in that.” Light, brown eyes danced with amusement when they caught mine, and Carl nodded firmly.
“I know a place.” Carl was only twenty-two years old— younger than Mateo— but he was a damn good driver, and he pulled the keys out of his jeans to twirl them on his finger. “Not bringing the freak today?”
“I guess not. It’ll be nice to get out by myself for once.” Heading towards the sleek, black four-door, I took another drag of my cigarette as I cast him a curious glance. “What’s your beef with Theo, anyway?”
“You let him drive my cars.” Licking my teeth, I only shook my head a little as I popped open the back passenger door, and Carl rounded the front of the vehicle. He had a passion for cars, which was nice, but they were technically my cars. Theo’s hand didn’t necessarily mean he couldn’t drive, either, but Carl worried about his toys. I kept my lips clamped around my cigarette and didn’t reply. He was young, and if he was gonna be possessive about something, at least it was a car.
“Did those guys say anything?” Shaking my head at the question, I rolled down the window a crack as the car revved to life. “I heard one of the maids talking about how they communicated through transcripts. That’s super weird. I would’ve never thought about that.”
“What do the maidsnottalk about?”Maybe Illya’s right, and I should swap them out.The maids were always talking, always sharing information, but I didn’t necessarily want to get rid of them just for that. I’d had the same team for years—years— and none of them had ever leaked information unless it was amongst themselves. True, it was nice that I didn’t have to keep people up to datebecause the maids were talking, and most of the time, they were accurate.
Pulling out onto the street, Carl set a leisurely speed, and I sat back in my seat to suck on the butt of my smoke.
“Do you ever feel like life’s dragging on and infinitely boring?” Tossing the question out there, I held my breath for a long moment before exhaling out of my nose. By all accounts, my life shouldn’t have been boring— I had a job, I did things I enjoyed, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on why everything seemed so . . . mundane.
“Not really. To be honest, I enjoy being bored sometimes. Plus, there’s always the option to do something new.” Smoke swept out the crack above my head, and I propped my elbow on the window to hold my cheek on my fist. “My girl likes doing fun stuff, so we always have shit to do.”
“How long have you been together?”
“A year and a half. We actually met at a rave. I did a line off her ass and knew she was the one for me.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Carl sounded so sure and proud, and he smacked the wheel to punctuate his point. “She’s in school to be a nurse. Whenever we have free time, we get really high and go for walks in Woodhaven.”
“That sounds very picturesque.” Carl started talking and talking and talking, and I hummed and nodded as he went on about his girlfriend so passionately. I didn’t mind it so much, and I watched the scenery roll by through unfocused eyes.
