I didn’t wait for a response. I wiped my hand on his shoulder and took my phone from him.
I felt Fenrir’s amusement.
He thought the room smelled better now.
I sniffed the air as I turned to leave.
Well. He wasn’t wrong.
???
I sat in my car and reached for the wet wipes, scrubbing my hand clean.
That was new, Fenrir observed.
We need him a little longer, and I don’t see him running far in the woods, I replied.
The truth was, I was bored. They were all so predictable.
Between my two companies, finance and data, my reputation was cutthroat. The players knew the rules of the game—and the consequences. Every so often, a minor disruption like Whitaker occurred. But in the end, they always fell back into line.
No one was beyond my reach. Everyone had dirt buried somewhere. Everyone had financial pressure points.
The city lights thinned as we drove through the night.
Friday night. People would be out, mistaking excess for freedom. Simpletons drinking their money away.
Fenrir stirred.
Friday nights meant fucking the week’s frustrations into silence.
He enjoyed tormenting them—making them beg, forcing them to humiliate themselves.
We both did.
???
“So you’ll make the enquiry disappear?” I asked Sir Rykens.
He nodded.
“If you don’t mind, Sir Rykens, I’ll need verbal confirmation for the microphone,” I drawled, watching his face drain of colour as his gaze flicked around the interior of my car.
“Oh, don’t worry,” I added mildly.“It’s our little secret.”
I wanted this over with. The stench of people in such a confined space was ruining my coffee.
“Yes,” he said, swallowing.“I will make the enquiry disappear.”
I pressed the button. The locks snapped open.
“Perfect. Thank you for your time this morning,” I said, unfolding my newspaper.
He hesitated, unmoving for a beat, then cleared his throat.
“Well… I’ll just be off then,” he said, discomfort creeping into his voice.
“Mm,” I hummed, already scanning the financial section—an upcoming company preparing to float.
