“It doesn’t matter what your name is, darling.” He moves his hand up and down his dick. “What matters is that you are here to get on your knees to show me that you really want this opportunity.”
The woman looks completely mortified, and I have no doubt she’s not the first one he’s done this to. Did he try this same thing with Arabelle?
The anger surging through me at the thought makes me see red. I hate a fucking predator, especially one that’s preying on my beauty. It’s time to put an end to this.
“Sweetheart, whoever you are, I need you to leave,” I say from the shadows. “Now!”
She wastes no time rushing to the door, quickly unlocks it, and slams it behind her.
“What the fuck!” Samuel shouts, jumping up from the couch with his hardened length still on full display. “Who are you? You can’t be in here!”
“Put your shit back in your pants, asshole,” I sneer.
His eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes he has been caught with his hard dick out in the open.
“I don’t know who you are, but you’re not supposed to be in here,” he says as he tries his best to stuff his shit back inside his pants, then zips them up. “I’m calling the cops.”
“Are you sure you want to do that? I can just tell them everything I just saw. Sounds like you were trying to force that young woman to perform sex acts to be considered for a job. I’m sure she’s not the only one you’ve coerced, and I’m sure she and others will confirm it once the cops start asking questions.”
“I have no fucking idea what you think you heard, but if you don’t?—”
“Have a seat,” I say, cutting off his lie.
He stops what he’s doing and then looks at the door like he’s thinking about making a run for it. It’s probably the best thing for him because his death will be quick, but what fun will that be for me?
“You’ll be dead before you make it, Mr. Foster. Have a seat.”
I lean forward so I’m no longer hidden in the shadows. I need him to see who he’s dealing with.
“Mr. Larsson?”
“Sit, Foster. Now!”
Flinching, he races to the chair placed in front of his desk. “What are you doing here, sir?”
I can hear the confusion and fear in his voice. He knows that I donate a healthy amount of money to this theater, and I have enough pull in this city to cause a hell of a lot of problems for him if I ever speak about what I just witnessed. However, he doesn’t have to worry about everyone discovering what he’s been up to.
“I’m here to have a little chat with you, Foster, so we can get some things straight when it comes to Arabelle. Imagine my surprise to see this little interaction between you and the young lady.”
“Oh, that was nothing. That was definitely not what it looked like. We just had a few things to discuss.”
“With your dick hanging out?” I ask, my brow arched. “The same things you tried to discuss with Arabelle?”
I can’t be certain if he’s attempted the same thing with Arabelle, but if he did it once, chances are he has done it before and would repeat it.
His eyes widen before he quickly conceals his shock. “I’ve done nothing wrong and have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr. Larsson.” He jumps to his feet. “I don’t think this line of questioning is appropriate. I think it’s time for me to leave.”
I rise from behind his desk, circle it, and approach him. Standing just inches in front of him, I see pure fear in his eyes. He’s so scared that his body visibly shakes with terror, and I absolutely love it.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“Please, I’ve done nothing wrong. No matter what the bitch has told you.”
Without warning, I punch him in the throat. His eyes brim with tears as he hunches over, his shoulders shaking. He struggles to scream, clawing at his throat, but all that comes out is a faint, muffled noise.
“Watch your fucking mouth!”
He raises a hand. “Please…I…”
