Removing my sunglasses, I start the car and force myself to relax as I pull out of the parking lot.
No more mistakes. No more attention. I need to stay committed to what matters.
Because Milo is waiting for me, and I’ve disappointed him enough.
CHAPTER FIVE
KIRILL
No one stopsme when I walk into the building.
The receptionist glances up, recognizes me, and immediately looks away, pretending she didn’t see me. Smart woman.
I don’t slow down as I step into the hallway. Benjamin’s voice carries through the conference room doors, confident and smug, but it won’t last.
I barrel in without knocking, and conversation dies instantly, all eyes around the long table zeroed on me. The color drains from Benjamin’s face so fast it’s almost impressive. He knows me well enough from prior business dealings to know I would not let what he did to Sloane go.
The men seated around the table glance between us, sensing something wrong without understanding what it is yet.
“Gentlemen,” he says, already rising from his chair, his voice tight. “Give us a moment.”
No one argues.
Chairs scrape. Papers are gathered too quickly. They file out without asking questions, because people like him don’t get scared for no reason.
The door closes, and silence settles around us like bricks.
Benjamin swallows. “Kirill, listen. I said I was sorry, okay? I?—”
The distance between us disappears in three steps. My hand closes around his collar, and I drive him backward, his body crashing into the glass conference table with a sound that ripples through the room. The glass spiderwebs, then gives out completely as I shove him harder, shards exploding across the floor. He hits the ground with a grunt.
I crouch in front of him and take his face in my hand, fingers digging into his jaw until his mouth falls open and a strangled sound tears out of his throat. I force his head up and make him look at me instead of the blood pooling beneath him.
“You disrespected her. You spoke to her like she was something you could crush under your shoe.”
Crimson spills from the corner of his mouth as he shakes his head, panic already setting in. “I didn’t know she mattered to you.”
My fist snaps forward, knuckles connecting with his face hard enough to jolt his entire body. There’s a sound like something giving way and he screams, high and broken, hands flying up too late to protect himself.
I grab his shirt, bunching the fabric in my fist, and drag him closer until his breath hits my cheek in hot bursts.
“She matters,” I tell him. “And if you ever speak to her like that again, if you so much aslookat her the wrong way, I will kill you. Slowly. And I will send your family whatever is left of you in pieces.”
His eyes grow wild, drowning in fear.
The door suddenly flies open, his secretary rushing in. Her heels skid to a stop as she takes in the shattered glass, the blood across the floor, and Benjamin crumpled in my grip.
“Oh my God. Sir, should…should I call the police?”
I laugh while Benjamin thrashes, terror pushing him upright just enough to choke out, “No. Get out.”
She hesitates for half a second, then turns and bolts, slipping on the glass as she scrambles for the door. I release Benjamin and rise to my feet, wiping my bloody knuckles on the front of his suit before I walk out, like he’s nothing more than a rag left behind for my convenience.
By the time I reach the elevator, my phone is already in my hand, and I know exactly who I’m calling next.
Mark answers on the first ring. He may run the diner, but every dollar that place makes traces back to me.
“Hello?” The tension slides into his voice like he can hear my mood through the phone.
