CHAPTER THREE
I froze in place with my hands gripping the freezing railing.
Bitter wind rippled my black hair around my face.
Winter was almost here.
Chilled to the bone, fear running down my spine, I asked, “I take it you’re Mr. Valentine?”
“My real name is Joshua Striker, but I do prefer Mr. Valentine.” He laughed softly. “It’s rather genius, don’t you think?”
I stared at the black smoke billowing in the air. “The fire?”
“No. My alias, Miss Harvey.”
I took note that he’d said Miss, not Missus.
I released my punishing grip on the railing and slowly turned to face my intruder. I lifted my chin, and stated, “I think I’ll call you Joshua.”
The man was tall and broad, handsome in a way one hardly ever sees. Almost flawless to view. Soft brown eyes and tawny hair that ruffled in the wind. A suit that fit his muscled form to perfection.
Joshua Striker was stunning. And deadly.
His lips twitched. “Such fire inside your soul. The background here suits you.”
“How did you get into my apartment?”
He pointed up. “I’ve been on the balcony above yours waiting for you to come out. That apartment is empty.” An artless shrug of his shoulders. “Then I simply jumped down.”
Joshua Striker must be nimble. I hadn’t even heard him land.
He gestured inside. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you. May I come inside?”
Karma had been right.
One time was enough meeting this man.
“I don’t think so.” I started to edge around him. If I could get inside, my balcony door had a lock on it. “You can leave the way you came.”
Joshua placed his left hand against the doorframe, effectively blocking my way to safety. Those gentle eyes disappeared, and a predator peeked out, finally a glimpse of the real darkness inside him. And it was staring right at me with calculated intelligence.
He stated clearly, “If you don’t allow me inside to speak with you, I will tell the Corporate Army that ring you have on your finger is fake. Along with the marriage license you have. That you are a thirty-one-year-old woman evading her lawful duty. Then I’ll send them to your door, along with access codes to your links on the dark web. What might they say when they see all of your dirty deeds, I wonder?”
I gulped down all my sudden hatred for this man and plastered a pleasant smile on my face. “Won’t you come in, Joshua?”
He removed his hand from the doorframe and smiled just as agreeably as I had. “Thank you ever so much for the warm invitation, Ms. Harvey. I promise I won’t disappoint with what I have to say, along with what I have to show you. Your life will be changedforever.”
I left the balcony door open on our way in. Though the air outside was now polluted with the smell of cinders, I needed the rush of wind working through my house to calm my nerves. I dealt with many criminals in my line of work, but one had never been to my house—especially after just killing someone the same day.
I sat down on my leather chair and swiveled it to face him where he stood in the center of my living room. If he was expecting me to be hospitable, it wasn’t going to happen.
With a sweep of my right hand, I motioned for him to speak. “You’re inside now, Joshua. What do you want to say?” I’d say his real name over and over again, a tiny dagger straight to his inflated ego.
Scared, I might be, but I was still pissed off.
His chuckle was dark and amused. “Aren’t you curious at all by the coverage you watched, courtesy of the woman I murdered?” He had his own daggers to jab me with, apparently.
“Not really, Joshua. They’re dead. Karma fucked up. Again.”
