Captivating.
He recognized that look.
She had an accidental way about her, like she didn’t know she was pretty because no one ever told her. He imagined her humble yet strong. Endearing in the rawest, human way.
Jack set the application in the approved pile and rose to refill his glass, only to reconsider his dinner waiting on the desk. The soup was ice cold now, but no less delicious.
His phone buzzed, and his jaw tightened at the caller ID. Geoffrey Ashworth.
He let it ring twice more, taking his time to wipe his mouth on a linen napkin before answering. “Thorne.”
“J.” Ashworth’s voice was fraught with relief. “Thank God. I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”
Jack said nothing, lifting his glass, letting silence stretch.
“I need to talk to you. As a friend.”
“We’re not friends, Geoffrey.”
“Of course, we are. The club, the dinners?—”
“Transactions. Don’t mistake proximity for intimacy.”
“S-sure.” A shaky exhale. “But I need your advice. I don’t understand what happened. One day, I had everything, and then...” His breathing turned frantic as he shifted the phone. “Someone’s been sabotaging me. My investors all pulled out overnight. Lisa took the children to her mother’s. I’m living in a fucking budget hotel, J. Christ, I had to sell my art just for some pocket change.”
“And?” Pocket change to billionaires was a fortune to others. Ashworth still had a ways to go.
“And I need help. The banks won’t talk to me. You know people. If you could make a few calls?—”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because we?—”
“Don’t say we’re friends.”
“But we’ve known each other for years, J.”
More than enough time to discover what kind of man Ashworth was. Jack took a slow sip. “Do you remember our dinner at Mayfair’s three years ago? You’d had too much wine and offered to arrange something for me.”
“I don’t.”
“Think hard, Ashworth. You called it…entertainment.”
“Is that what this is about? I can try to pull some strings?—”
“What makes you think I would want to be entertained like that, by a child?”
Silence.
“You’re a stain, Geoffrey. A cancer. When you abuse your power, you cease to deserve it. There are always consequences.” Jack’s voice remained level. “You deserve to suffer. Enjoy what you have left. It won’t be long until even that’s gone.”
“J, what are you saying? Did you have something to do with this?”
It was what Jack did best, but that was privileged information Geoffrey Ashworth hadn’t earned. “Goodbye, Geoffrey.” Silence. “Don’t call this number again.”
Jack ended the call and set the phone face-down—hand steady, pulse unchanged. He felt nothing for men like Ashworth. Not pity, not rage. Just the quiet satisfaction that the world would soon contain one less monster.
Chapter Four
