“Oh my God!” I gasp loudly as my jaw drops. There, barely visible in the reflection of the glass… “Francesca…”
So I was right. When I thought I heard the click of a camera and then brushed it off. I was actually right!
My stomach twists. I might actually vomit.
“Bitch,” Blake growls.
“I just gave her amassiveChristmas bonus too…”
Blake’s fingers thread through my hair. He pulls me closer, lifts my chin, and kisses me.
His lips are like a sedative. I’m able to lose myself in his embrace for just long enough that my panic starts to ease.
I should have seen this coming. But how? Francesca has been my best assistant in years. We never argue, and I’ve told her plenty of times that I see promise in her. I was planning on promoting her next year.
“Don’t worry, Kathryn,” Blake says, stroking my head gently. “I’ll take care of it.”
My heart jumps. “Take careof it?!” I make a gun with my thumb and forefinger.
Blake roars with laughter and gives me a teasing poke in the side. “Not like that!”
“Okay, phew,” I sigh, feeling silly for even thinking such a thing.
“But trust me, baby. I’ll take care of it. You trust me?”
I look up at him—the sharp lines of his face and his piercing eyes—it all somehow manages to come together with such kindness.
I’m so lucky…
“Yes.” I nod. “I trust you.”
“Good.” He smiles. “I protect what’s mine, baby. Andyouare mine.”
9
BLAKE
It’sa perfect evening of snow flurries as I make my way up the sidewalk. Big snowflakes float down everywhere, giving the streets the quintessential postcard look people think of when they think of winter in New York.
Kind of ironic that all the Christmas cheer has left me. I’m on a mission tonight. A mission I cannot fail.
I stop in front of a grungy apartment building and check my phone. Yep, this is the one.
Kathryn gave me Francesca’s address. She said she’d be here. Apparently, she’s not that social and has no family.
A light glows from the bedroom on the second story, and I shake my head. Sitting at home after dropping a blackmail note off to your boss? Doesn’t seem like the right move to me.
Someone’s propped the front door open, so I slip inside and take the stairs.
Stay cool…stay cool…I keep telling myself. My blood is boiling, but for my plan to work, I’m going to have to relax.
My pulse beats harder, loud like a drum in my ears, as I approach the door to Francesca’s apartment.
She wants to hurt my queen. She wants to ruin her.
I draw my clenched fist from my pocket, take a breath, and pound hard on the door. “Here we go…”
There’s a soft gasp from inside, followed by the sound of footsteps.
