cheeks and blows it out, eyes wide. “Oof, she seemed mad.”
Clara reaches for the Pringles, her slim hand retrieving chips from the bottom of the tube effortlessly. I’m jealous. With my big wrists, I always have to wrestle for the last few chips. At least it’s nice to see her with a healthy appetite again.
“I think we’re about to find out how mad.” I open my laptop and navigate to the front page of the New York Union. I hit refresh. Nothing yet.
“You don’t think she’s actually going to leak it, do you?” Clara asks.
“I think that’s exactly what she’s going to do. Debbie doesn’t mess around.”
I doubt my threat will have had much sway over her, though it was worth a try. She barely ever took me seriously as a reporter—she’s certainly not going to take me seriously as a mob queen.
Clara’s eyes widen a little as she fishes for another chip. “What are you going to do if she does it?”
I shake my head, refreshing the screen again. “I don’t know. Will you wait with me?”
Clara’s blue eyes meet mine across the desk, shining with sincerity. “Of course.”
We don’t have to wait for long. Debbie must have had the article locked and loaded because sure enough, two refreshes later and a new headline is splashed across the front page.
BILLIONAIRE’S MISTRESS THREATENS POLICE OFFICER IN SECRET RECORDING.
I turn the laptop to Clara, and she reads the title. “Yikes.”
Yikes is right.
“You know what’s most annoying?” I grumble. “I’m not his fucking mistress.”
Clara lifts one brow. “That’s the most annoying bit?”
We read through the article, which contains a transcription of the recording but also includes a link for anybody who wants to listen to my seething threats themselves. It’s bad. Really bad. And I know any moment, Gabriel is going to burst in here and—
Laura buzzes. “Ms. Wright, Gabriel Bellucci is here to see you.”
Gabriel strides through the door before Laura has even finished speaking. I press the intercom button. “Thank you, Laura.”
Clara’s head swings around, and when she looks back at me, she grimaces. “I’m going to go.”
“Thank you, Clara.”
She scurries out of the office. I don’t blame her for evacuating the scene—Gabriel looks furious. His dark eyes are narrowed with deadly precision, jaw tight, lips flat. As usual, he looks sexier than ever when he’s angry. As always, that’s highly inconvenient.
“Hey,” I greet once we’re alone.
“What the fuck was Debbie Harris thinking?” he asks, and like a bolt out of the blue, it hits me that Gabriel isn’t angry at me. “What happened?”
I take a breath. Gabriel’s dominant energy is flooding the room, and I struggle to form words. “Yeah, uh, she came to visit me today. Bit of a nightmare, actually. She said that if I didn’t give her information on you, she was going to leak Ruby’s recording. And I wouldn’t, so she did.”
Gabriel crosses the room in three long strides and plants his hands on the desk. “We need to deal with her. We can’t let her get away with embarrassing you like that.”
Embarrassing me? I mean, of course, I am the one with egg on my face, but I’m used to Gabriel taking everything I do and twisting it around to how it affects him. But he isn’t concerned about his image right now. He’s worried about mine. He’s angry that Debbie has humiliated me. He wants to make her pay for what she did not to him, but to me.
I swallow. It’s hard to be angry at Debbie when I’m so goddamn turned on. Is it wrong to find Gabriel sexy when he’s contemplating murder?
“I don’t want to hurt her,” I say, briefly pulling my libido back in check. “She’s been through a lot because of this war. I think we should scare her, but I want to be very clear that no harm should come to her or her daughter.”
Gabriel’s jaw works back and forth. “Fine.”
Heat flashes between my thighs. This powerful man—this force to be fucking reckoned with—is ceding to my wishes. God, that feels good. And hell if it doesn’t turn me on.
“In the meantime,” I say, rolling back in my chair. I’m wearing a knee-length pencil skirt, and when I widen my legs, Gabriel’s eyes flick to the movement. “Maybe you could help distract me from what the mean Scottish lady did?”
His lip ticks slightly at the corner, and when his eyes meet mine again, they burn with arousal. “I suppose I could do that.”