Corrupted Empire - Nicole Fox Page 0,75

places it on her belly, pressing down. Her baby bump is barely visible, but I can feel the firmness of it.

“When it comes to our family, I’ll do anything,” she says.

We stay like that for a long time, until a commercial break effectively unglues Harry from the screen.

“Dada,” he says, grinning up at me. “Wanna play airplane?”

24

Alexis

Clara’s blonde head is bent low over the desk as she examines the set of photographs splayed across the wood. I went through a few of the older treatment centers yesterday and took photos of areas that could use some improvement, and Clara is helping me create a budget for the work.

“I think the most important things we should focus on are the kitchens,” she says. “You want these places to feel like a home, and kitchens are at the heart of that. You want them clean and accessible, with lots of seating. They should be the kind of place people want to hang out and make a meal together.” She looks up, smiling. “Recovery necessitates a lot of human interaction in my experience. It’s a lot easier to retreat into the darkness if you feel like you’re alone.”

I nod. “That sounds good. We can definitely do that.”

She goes back to looking at the photos, and I wonder if she’s ever going to say anything about the cops coming around to the mansion two days ago. I know I only asked her to watch Harry for a few minutes while I got Gabriel ready in the foyer, but that still made her complicit in the deception. Yet she hasn’t said anything about it.

It’s driving me nuts.

Laura buzzes, and I’m so tightly wound thinking about Clara that I jump in my chair.

“Yes?” I ask.

“Debbie Harris is here to see you,” she says. “I told her that you’re in a meeting, but she said it’s urgent.”

Clara looks up, cocking a brow.

I sigh. “Let her through.”

A second later, Debbie storms into my office, a vision in her lime pantsuit. She has gone for a darker lipstick than is her custom, and darkly lined eyes narrow on me from across the room.

Laura walks in behind her. “Can I get anyone a drink?”

“No, that will be all, Laura,” I say, my eyes never leaving Debbie’s.

Laura leaves, and Debbie perches on the chair next to Clara. I am suddenly very nervous. The two of them have never met but are aware of each other. I can’t remember if Debbie knows that Clara knows the truth about Gabriel.

“What can I help you with, Debbie?” I lean back in my chair, feigning nonchalance.

Debbie slaps her phone onto the desk and taps the screen. From the speaker, I hear my voice.

“Listen, bitch. I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you might want to think for a second about who I am. What I can do. You ought to be careful what you say around me if you want to avoid any trouble.”

I am getting tired of talking about this recording.

Clara, who has never heard the recording before, looks up in surprise. I meet her eyes and try to communicate telepathically that I will explain later.

“I see you’ve been cozying up to Ruby Flint,” I remark.

“Aye, we’re like two bugs snug in a rug,” Debbie snaps. She sounds even more Scottish when she’s angry. “Would you care to explain yourself?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Debbie’s attention flicks to Clara. “You’re the best friend, aren’t you? Did you know that your girl has gotten in deep with the Italian mob?”

“I’m not in deep with anybody,” I reply smoothly.

Debbie whips around to snarl at me, making her fluffy hair bounce. “You’re in over your fecking head!” She returns her attention to Clara. “And are you just okay with the fact that your best friend is turning into an utter psychopath?”

Clara furrows her brow. “Number one, I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Number two, I’m not sure how it would be any of my business if I did. Alexis and I were literally sitting here discussing renovations to several drug rehabilitation centers throughout the city. She’s a good person.”

Debbie rolls her eyes. “Lord have mercy. You’ve drunk the Kool-Aid too, hmm?”

“Debbie,” I say firmly. “What do you want?”

She purses her lips and slides her phone back into her pocket. “I want information,” she says. “And I will release this recording online if I don’t get it.”

“I’ve got a hot tip for you.” Clara grins. “Never eat yellow snow.”

I giggle. Debbie frowns.

“You should

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