The King - S.R. Jones Page 0,10
We don’t go after one another’s family. Wives and kids are off limits. Popov clearly doesn’t abide by the rules. So now he must face the consequences of this.
It’s dangerous, though, highly so. I don’t believe for a moment that Popov wouldn’t go for Michael if it meant stopping me, but if Michael married into the Bianchi family? That would mean Popov would bring down another war on himself, this time with the Italians.
So many balls in the air, so much to juggle. My head hurts, warning of a possible migraine if I don’t calm the fuck down. I could do with a coffee, but instead of grabbing one, I head straight into the building. I want to read about Cassie’s ex-fiancé, the idiot who dumped her and shoves her nose in his new relationship every day if my intel is correct, before I decide how to twist the knife I’m about to stick him with.
I smile grimly at the prospect of telling the shit who broke Cassie’s heart that he’s lost his job while Cassie keeps hers. Sometimes having this much power is a rush.
When I hit the floor my office is on, I sigh at the sight of my PA, Grace, at her desk. It’s a Sunday, but the woman is a workaholic.
“Oh, hello, sir. I didn’t know you were coming in today.”
“Yeah, neither did I, but I have some things I want to look over. What are you doing here? You need a day off.”
She smiles. “I was planning on it, but then my mother decided to come and visit, and I remembered I had urgent work to do.”
I laugh. Her mother is awful. We don’t talk a lot, but I do recall her telling me how much she dreads her mother’s visits. It seems the old dear comes to visit often too because she likes being able to look around London.
“Here.” I take my wallet out and pull a bunch of notes from it. “Go to the spa around the corner and have that pampering package thing they do that all you women love so much. If your mother calls, I’ll answer and tell her you’re doing particularly important work and can’t be disturbed.”
She looks at me, her eyes wide. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
It’s partly a nice gesture, but it’s also selfish to a degree because she’s the best damn PA I’ve had in years. I take care of the things that matter to me, and she’s a good PA, so I take care of her.
She grabs the notes with a huge grin and stuffs them into her Mulberry handbag. I pay her well, but she earns every penny.
“Thank you so much.”
I nod at her and push open the heavy wooden door to my office.
Once inside, I open my drawer and take out Cassie’s file again. I sit and stare at her picture as I wonder how the hell I’m going to get her to hack into Popov’s business for me if she’s as straight as my son seems to think. It could be that her previous little experience with hacking was one of those crazy moments of rebellion most of us have when we’re young, or even due to peer pressure.
I want her too, and I had planned on simply taking her and making her mine. Yeah, not politically correct, but I don’t give a fuck about these things. However, having seen her today, how bad she looks, I’m not sure I should be doing anything quite so drastic. At least, not yet. Cassie is like a flower wilting and dying in barren soil; uproot her against her will and she’ll simply waste away.
Tend to her first and then uproot her? And she might survive.
Perhaps I ought to be a tad more … old fashioned? Try to seduce her. I like the chase, after all.
What about the hacking, though? I need her to do that. I don’t trust anyone else right now to do it for me. Should I simply offer her a fuck ton of money to hack Popov for me? Would that work?
One way or another, I’ll get her into my bed, I decide, but I might let that take a backseat right now. First I need to get her to hack into every single corner of Popov’s life.
I need to avenge Yulia and make sure Michael is safe in the future. Those two things must be my priority beyond anything else, including what I personally do or don’t want.
It’s as simple as it can