I curtsy theatrically, which makes everyone laugh. When I straighten, I shoot finger guns at Holston. “Just doing what I do best. Acquiring the right contacts in all the right places.”
“And what places they were,” he says with a restrained chuckle. “The Henderson Group’s already requesting proposals, and they’ve never so much as taken a meeting with us before. Whatever you said to their CEO clearly made an impression.”
“She worked the room like a professional thief,” one of the senior account managers adds, raising a coffee mug in toast. “In and out before anyone realized they’d been charmed.”
My smile freezes for a millisecond. Thief. The silver lighter… even though it’s tucked away at home, I swear I can feel the metal heating my palm.
Mental fucking pin.
“To Raven Carter,” Holston says, lifting his coffee mug in salute.
The team choruses their agreement, and I let myself bask in it.
As the impromptu celebration winds down and people begin drifting back to their desks or out to lunch, Holston approaches me, his expression shifting from proud to something more serious.
“Brilliant work, truly,” he says, voice lower now. “I mean that. But I need you for something else. A potential new client wants to meet with you.”
I smooth my dress again, a nervous tic I can’t quite control. “Of course. Now?”
“Now,” he confirms. “He’s already waiting in my office.”
As we walk through the modern office space, I mentally review potential clients. The glass walls and sleek furnishings blur past as I concentrate.
“Anyone I might know?” I ask, keeping my voice light, professional.
Holston hesitates, just for a fraction of a second. But it’s long enough to feel like he’s considering his options. As though he isn’t sure this is a good idea.
“Doesn’t matter,” I chirp. “You know I’m happy to help.” There’s no way I’m backing down from a potential challenging account. Nope. I thrive on that shit.
He nods slowly. “Glad to hear it, Raven.” He swipes his forehead with the back of his hand and I do my best not to grimace. “I’m not sure if you two were introduced or not,” he continues, placing his hand on the door handle.
I resist the urge to tell him he’d know if he’d attended his own event. But instead of mouthing off, I straighten my shoulders and walk inside after he opens the door.
Holston’s private office has never felt smaller. Maybe it’s the way the light cuts through the blinds, slicing the space into sharp strips of light and shadow. Maybe it’s the expensive leather chairs arranged in a perfect circle like some corporate ritual.
Or maybe, just fucking maybe, it’s the man sitting in one of those chairs, his scarred face turning to me the instant I step inside.
Matteo. Here. In my workplace. My feet stop working and my brain short-circuits as the room tilts slightly.
Mental pin: The urge to bolt like a frightened rabbit. I’m prey, hear me shiver.
The thought hits me so fast I almost snort out loud. Luckily, I manage to lock it down, and mentally tell the snarky bitch in my brain to shut the hell up and let me at least pretend to be a badass.
“Raven,” Holston says, gesturing to the empty chair across from Matteo. His smile is perfectly cordial, though a hint of tension flickers behind it. “Our newest client has requested an arrangement with you.”
I force my lips into what I hope resembles a smile and not a grimace. “We’ve met, actually.” My voice comes out steadier than I feel. Gold star for me.
“At the Parkview,” Matteo supplies, his deep voice sending unwanted shivers across my skin. He doesn’t stand, doesn’t offer his hand. Just sits there, power personified, watching me with those unnervingly focused eyes.
“Excellent,” Holston says, clapping his hands once.
I sink into the chair, crossing my legs and straightening my spine like I’m not sitting across from a man who killed people right in front of me mere days ago. A man who fucked me senseless before that.
A man whose lighter is currently nestled in my trophy box at home like a ticking bomb.
“Mr. Russo is interested in PR representation,” Holston explains, settling behind his desk.
Russo. His last name is Russo. The name tugs at something in my memory, something important, something dangerous.
