Their reactions only spurred Katerina on. Tears, sweat, choked sobs. To her, that was the only way to create ‘true art.’
I don’t know if Hugo responds. I don’t care, either.
Therizzz,rizzzpicks up, the smooth, low vibration of a cello resumes, and I finish my fucking solo.
Adjusting the cufflinks on my crisp black shirt, I stroll down the hall toward Felix’s office. He called me over half an hour ago, but I decided to reward my hard work with an extra-long shower. With my hair still damp and the fresh scent of aftershave lingering on my skin, I’m feeling particularly fucking good right about now.
My phone buzzes, and I shake my head at Felix’s impatience before withdrawing it from my pocket. My steps slow. I narrow my eyes at the screen. What the hell is this? I zoom in on the picture.
Emmy Highland stands on the dining room table. Naked and chained to the chandelier. Her eyes are wide as she stares into the camera, her fingers curled into her palms. With a swallow, I force myself to ignore the bare curves of her body and drop my gaze instead to the candles lit around her feet.
My nostrils flare, my pulse accelerating. After a second, I delete the image, clear the screen, and resume walking. The reaction is illogical anyway. The girl is nothing to me. She signed up for this shit. She can get herself out of it if she can’t take it.
Not a minute later, a text comes through.
Raife: Hope your day has been as eventful as mine. She looks so beautiful when she’s afraid, doesn’t she? She tasted just as good, too.
A growl catches in my throat before I pound on Felix’s office door. It swings open, and I barge inside, almost knocking him down. I was having a great goddamn day.
“Fuck. What’s up with you?” Felix closes the door behind me and walks back to his desk.
He slips into his leather chair and waits as I pace to the window, grimacing at the rays of light pouring onto the marble floor. I pull the blackout curtains over the glass until the room goes dark.
Better. My muscles loosen with the inky surroundings.
I’m not the only one with an aversion to bright lights, but I spent more time in Katerina’s studio than my brothers. I won’t pretend to tolerate it for their sake, and they don’t expect me to.
I’m about to speak when another text lights up my phone.
Raife: Then again, that was hours ago. You should see what she looks like now.
My grip tightens around the phone. Tossing it on the desk, I watch it slide to the opposite end, near Felix; far enough not to tempt me to respond. I lean forward and rest my palms on the desktop, irritation coiling in my shoulders.
When my phone buzzes again, I don’t bother looking. Felix glances toward it, his gaze flicking across the screen, then he groans and rubs his eyes. “You could have Stella send her back, you know. Cut the girl’s contract now, before things escalate.”
I pull in a long breath, then look up and level my gaze on his. “Since when have I been interested in discussing our hires? Let Raife and Stella deal with them, the way they always do.” I pause to work my jaw. “Did you call me in here to talk bullshit or to go over our next play? I want Murphy.”
Arnold Murphy is the last remaining chess piece, the final of the three players behind the pseudonymMisha, and also the most elusive and cunning. He’s been the most difficult to obtain. After a failed attempt to bring him down a few years ago, the four of us agreed to hold off and save Murphy for after Hugo was finished. Who needs a fucking Katerina look-alike when I could finally get Murphy in front of me, face to face, after all this time?
Felix’s eyebrows shoot up. After watching my expression, he shrugs. “All right, man. Then let’s talk Murphy.”
I nod and push off the table, the wheels in my mind already turning. A visual of the bastard tied up, his throat against my knife as he begs for his life, sends a hot rush through me. “We keep it low-key, stay focused on the delivery this time. Do that, and Griff could be bringing him in by the end of the week.”
Felix taps a pen against his desk. “You know Raife doesn’t want him here until we’ve completely ruined him. His law firm, his marriage, his fucking reputation. He wants him crushed, and I wouldn’t mind seeing the guy watch his perfect life go up in flames before you get to him, either.”
My lips curl. “I don’t see Raife. Do you? Have you forgotten what happened after the last time we let Raife have his way with this guy? If he wants a say in what goes, he needs to actually be here to discuss this shit.” My words bite, but my voice is calm as I turn and head for the door. “Otherwise we do it my way, and that’s to cut the fucking theatrics and bring Murphy in.”
My phone goes off right as I finish. I tense, turning just enough to see Felix scan the screen. “Speaking of theatrics,” he frowns and tips his head toward it, “you might wanna stop by the dining room.”
I let out a frustrated breath. He tosses the phone to me, and I slip it into my pocket.
“You’re not even going to look?”
“Nah.” I turn toward the door. “Some things are better seen in person.”
