“Rowe,” I repeat slowly. “As inMick Rowe?”
Anthony nods. “That’s the one.”
I lean back against the seat, memories surfacing, blurred nights in my father’s office, laughter that wasn’t quite friendly, a man in a cheap suit with sharp eyes who was alwaysaroundbut never really seen. I was a kid, but I remember the way my mother would leave the room when he came in.
“He worked for my father,” I murmur. “I don’t know in what capacity, but he was close.”
“Not anymore,” says Anthony. “The guy’s still inside. Serving a long stretch. I’m still digging for the reason. Someone doesn’t want us to know; it was a difficult file to find. And…” He trails off, his tone changing. “You should know something else.”
I look up sharply. “What?”
“Your old man came to me.”
My gut tightens. “What did he want?”
“To tell me to stop digging.” The air goes cold. “He said, and I quote,‘You might take orders from my son, but we both know who runs the show and who can end it.’” Anthony’s eyes meet mine. “Sounds like you’re rattling cages he doesn’t want opened.”
I stare out the window at the revolving glass doors where Leoni disappeared moments ago. My pulse hammers.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “That’s the problem, isn’t it. Look, if you want to stop––”
“I don’t. I’m telling you because you’re my boss and we both know who’s going to end this.” He smirks. “Just remember me when you’re at the top running the show.”
I grin too. “Always.”
Chapter Seven
LEONI
By the time the car pulls away, I feel like my nerves are shot. My heart’s still hammering from whatever almost happened between Warren and me, and my head’s spinning with the conversation over lunch, the arrest, the awkward near kiss, the way he looked at me like he wanted to say something he couldn’t.
I need air. Space. Anything that isn’t him.
The moment I step into the lobby, Talia’s sharp voice cuts through the quiet hum of phones and printers. “Oh my God, Leoni! Please tell me I just saw that right.”
I close my eyes briefly before turning towards the front desk. Talia’s perched forward in her chair, eyes gleaming with gossip.
“Saw what right?” I ask, keeping my voice steady.
“You,” she says, dragging out the word with dramatic flair. “Getting out ofWarren Baxter’scar. You’ve been in his car,together. At the same time.” She grins, waggling her brows. “Spill it, Lee. What’s going on?”
Of course she saw. Talia seeseverything.
I give her my most casual smile, the one I save for clients who ask stupid questions. “If you must know, he dragged me to some boring lunch meeting. I didn’t have a choice.”
Talia gasps like I’ve just confessed to murder. “You went to lunch with him?”
“Against my will,” I add quickly. “It was torture. The man’s a nightmare. I honestly don’t get what anyone sees in him.”
Talia giggles, twirling a strand of her glossy hair around one finger. “Oh, come on, Leoni. He’shot.In that terrifying, angry, throw-you-over-a-desk kind of way.”
I roll my eyes, but a flush creeps up my neck all the same. “Yeah, well, you try working for him. He’s an arsehole ninety percent of the time and the other ten he’s just unbearable. His coffee order alone sends me over the edge every fucking day. I mean, it’s just coffee but the stuck-up bastard likes it from that bloody coffee house about a hundred miles away,” I exaggerate. “And don’t get me started on his ‘diet’,” I add, using air quotes. “And the company he keeps is beyond terrible. Posh twats with no real-life experience.”
“Hmm.” Talia leans forward, grinning. “Sounds like you’ve got the hots for him.”
Before I can respond, another voice cuts in from behind me. Smooth. Icy.
“Well, that’s interesting,” Nancy purrs. “Does Warren know how much you despise him?”
