Isthatwhy his mental wall’s up so high? Because he heard last night like me? And judging by the glint in Julien’s gaze, so did he. And, of course, they think it’s my fault.
“Are we explaining this now, Almighty Lord Who-Can-Do-No-Wrong?”I smirk at Zeek, and the others lock onto him.
“Not now, she’s waiting.”Then he steps forwards without even glancing my way. “We have your contract, Jasmine.” His voice flips from vinegar to honey in an instant.
Sly fuck.
Red stares at the large wedge in his hand. “Is this a joke?” Her eyes dart between us, turning to Kane and Julien before landing back on Zeek.
“Working for the Council is a serious role,” he explains, slotting one hand into a pocket, the model of cool and calm. “Our lawyer has to ensure there are no loopholes.”
She takes the contract, unclips the pen from the top, and begins flicking through the pages, again and again, then turns it over and stills.
Her eyes scan the last page twice as fast as any other.
“Youarejoking.” She huffs out a laugh, but it falters when she looks at us.
We’ve all got our game faces on. All serious. I’m workingsodamn hard to keep mine in check.
Her expression sharpens as she scoffs. “Seriously? You think I’d sign this?”
“If you want to be our employee,” Zeek says with that infuriating calm. “Yes. You’ll need to sign. Otherwise…” He gives a little shrug, eyes glinting, smug bastard loving every second. “We can discuss alternatives to ensure you’re still getting everything you…”
She’s… she’s lowering the pen.
My eyes flit to the others, all tense, all watching.
She’s re-reading the final page, pulling the contract closer—
Then she… signs. Just like that. She fuckingsignsit.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
“Well,” she says, voice flippant as hell. “I guess this changes a few things.” There’s a little twist to her lips, and it’s ridiculously sexy. “You can’t exactly date your employee, pretty sure HR wouldn’t approve. Power dynamics and all.”
She smiles, and it’s blinding. Full of a smug power that urges me to kiss it off her until she’s whimpering.
Julien stands, moving towards her. “There’s a clause,” he says, a touch sharper than usual. His gaze flicks to the contract clutched against her chest. “Page 248. Paragraph 10.”
She frowns, flipping through the pages and rereading.
“That sentence isn’t even in English!” she gasps, looking between us. “I thought it was just some pretentious phrase, like when people use Latin to sound more intelligent than they are?”
“It means something.” Julien’s small smile is just enough to piss our Red off. And damn, I love seeing her angry.
She glowers at him. “What?”
“Don’t be mad, mon âme,” he practically purrs. “We didn’t think you’d sign it, and now we’re being honest by mentioning it.”
Her eyes narrow. “You were trying to get me tonotsign it? Why?”
Zeek exhales, shoulders loosening a fraction as he steps closer. “Because we don’t want this to feel like a trade. We don’t want you thinking you have to give us something just to get something back.” He looks at her with those sad puppy dog eyes and damn, it even hits me a little.
Red’s lips part like she’s going to argue, but nothing comes out. Her eyes soften, the furrow leaves her brows, and there’s a flicker of something in that crimson gaze. Maybe recognition? Like she’s only just realising that’s exactly what she’s been doing.
Zeek’s gaze stays on her. “You are your own person, Jasmine. You don’t need permission. You don’t need to earn every little thing.” He moves a little closer. “But if this is really what you want, I’ll draft out a real contract—”
“What does the clause mean, Julien?” she cuts in.
