That’s news to me; my Vicky has been holding outon me. But I don’t share that I didn’t know. “No great concern. There was no connection between those organizations and what we did with Origin.”
“Notentirelytrue,” Fournier murmurs. “You weren’t directly involved; DeLuca pulled the strings on that one.”
I wasn’t aware of that either, and I find it irritating. It was months of effort, only to now be told I owe someone else for its credit. I wonder if Rita knew when I didn’t. “How many of my deals does that apply to?”
“All of them.” Fournier looks amused. “How else do you think we knew you were so willing to… shall we say… break the rules?” He waves it away. “But the point is Victoria. At first, we thought her interest in you was an extension of her investigation. We weren’t sure if she was being paid, or if it was personal motivation.” He gives me a side glance. “Van Wyk, incidentally, still isn’t convinced she’s not playing you.”
“She’s not,” I say curtly, the response a knee-jerk reaction. I press my lips together.Be more careful, Alex.
If Fournier noticed my reaction, he doesn’t say so, and his expression doesn’t change. “Yes, that’s my view too. Regardless, keep your lovely investigator in check. It’s your job to know what she’s investigating. It wouldn’t do for her to get too close to anything, would it?”
“I don’t think that’s much of a risk,” I say calmly. “She’s not even working in corporate anymore.”
Fournier nods. “Good. Keep it that way. Andreturning to our theme of loyalty, I want to be candid with you about Victoria.”
Something in his tone makes me still. “Go on.”
“Van Wyk has taken a personal interest.” He says it lightly, like it's a minor administrative note. “I've asked him to leave it with me for now. But Alexander”—he stops walking and looks at me directly—“I won't be able to hold that position indefinitely. She needs to stop."
Stop what?
“She has stopped.”
“Perhaps you should make certain of that.” A pause. “Van Wyk is not a patient man, and his solutions are often… expeditious. I would hate for something to happen that neither of us wanted.”
I hold his gaze. “Is that a threat?”
“Of course it’s a threat,” Fournier says pleasantly. “I do find you promising, Alexander, but let’s ensure our house is in order. You’ve got…” he makes a show of glancing at his watch. “…a week.”
Twenty-Four
Vicky
Icling to Van Wyk’s arm.
Not because I want to, but because my legs are shaky.
The man I’m walking alongside just threatened to chop Alex’s finger off. With a fucking knife. And I know—I justknow—he’s done it before.
Juliette Van Wyk died from a self-inflicted knife wound.
How the hell is this man not in prison? How did the goddamnfuckof all goddamnfuckedinvestigations lead to him walking free?
He glances at me. “Are you all right, Victoria?”
Just fucking dandy.
“It’s been a trying day.”
Alex walked off so cool, trailing blood.I can be that cool.
I lift my chin, straighten my back. And let go of Van Wyk’s arm.
His grey, soulless eyes flicker with some emotion, something he sees in what I’ve just done. Like even pulling myself together tells him something I don’t want him to know.
“Of course it has,” he says mildly. “It’s not every day you lose the opportunity to sleep with Bastien Fournier. But don’t be too hard on Alex; he probably thought he was doing the right thing.”
“I’m sure he did,” I reply, keeping it neutral, my tone even, learning from what Alex showed me.
