My voice shakes. "No, I didn't." Why is he squeezing my wrist so hard?
"You're hurting me," I say quietly.
He seems to snap out of it and quickly lets go. "Sorry. Just... don't get on his bad side, okay? Actually, don't get on his good side, either. Don't get anywhere close to him."
I straighten, the hairs on my arms prickling. "Why? What's so special about him? How dangerous does a guy have to be for you to get shaken up?"
Jackson's jaw tightens. He looks me dead in the eye. "Just don't anger the guy, Iris. Around here, he goes by another name.You don't want to end up on his radar. He's not some lackey. You don't just run into a man like that by accident. If you meet him, you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it's never for a good reason. He's dangerous. Really dangerous."
His words linger between us, heavy. I watch him, my mind racing, a chill settling in my chest. Jackson has never looked this serious before. If even he's nervous, I know I should be careful.
Another thought crosses my mind. If he's really this dangerous and he's interested in me, why not use it? Maybe I can get his help or cooperation somehow.
I turn to Jackson. "Jackson, I think I might need his help. I mean, if he's paying attention to me why not use that?"
Jackson groans and runs a hand down his face. "Just stop, okay? I already warned you. I'm not even supposed to be telling you any of this. I'm saying it as a friend. Don't try to get close to him. Don't try to warm up to him just to use him. He doesn't help people on a whim. And you...." He sighs, looking frustrated. "You're a beautiful girl, Iris. Being on his radar is bad. As in, really bad."
I shrug, trying to brush off his worry. "Well, he doesn't look like he's going to hurt me. And this is actually the second time I've run into him. The first time was in an alleyway."
Jackson rubs his hair, "Oh my God. No. No, no, no. Iris, listen to me..."
He's acting like I'm about to walk into a trap I'll never get out of. I've never seen him this unsettled.
I try to reassure him. "Look, the first time was just an accident. And honestly, he was polite."
Jackson stares at me, incredulously. "Polite? That man has never been polite."
I eye him carefully. "So... you know him?"
He shakes his head. "I don't know him. But people I know say he's bad news. Bad news to the right people and to the wrong people. Why would you even... ugh, Iris."
I reassure him and say, "Look, I'm not going to sleep with him, and I'm not going to let him sleep with me. I just want to persuade him to help me get some dirt on the senator since they're close. I'm not about to get too close or do anything reckless. Besides, don't you trust me?"
Jackson sighs, still not convinced. "That's the thing, I trust you. I just don't trust him."
I wave him off. "Alright, I won't get too close. Happy now?"
His shoulders slumps down. "Thank you. For real, Iris, just stay away from him."
We wrap up our conversation. Jackson's phone rings and he glances at the screen, grimacing. "Ah, I have to leave town again. But I'll be back soon, and when I am, we're going out. Don't forget."
"Sure," I say. He pays for our food, tips the waitress, and then he's gone.
I sit there for a moment, picking at the crumbs on my plate, replaying the conversation in my mind. He's already said his piece, but I know my own. I'm going to take full advantage of his interest in me. Maybe it isn't full-blown infatuation, but he did call me an angel. If he sees me as some sort of deity, why shouldn't I use it?
I pull out my phone and message Mr. David, letting him know I'll be coming by the factory soon to sort out a few things, and that I might have found us a stroke of luck—a man who can finally defeat the senator.
Chapter 4
????
ILAY
I sit behind the desk in my office, the leather chair firm under me as I flip through the documents spread across my desk. The office is sleek. Polished mahogany shelves, a minimalist glass table in the corner, and a soft hum of city traffic beyond the reinforced windows.
Yuri, my administrator and bodyguard, sits in one of the two guest chairs opposite me and reads off the problems. The property agreement with Dr. Evan is dragging on longer than necessary, and the senator is breathing down my neck, and I can feel my patience fraying.
Normally, I would have sorted this out days ago, but the problem is a red-haired, green-eyed, pouty-lipped, short 5'4" woman with a fiery temper, a sailor's mouth, and an attitude to match.
