Chapter 2 - The Lion's Debt
Ten minutes later, Doug Mercer was practically dragged into the penthouse by two stone-faced security men.
Doug’s face was the color of skim milk. When he saw Emma standing beside Adrian Vale’s mahogany desk—drinking imported sparkling water from a crystal glass—his knees trembled.
“Mr. Vale!” Doug sputtered, clasping his hands together. “I am so sorry about the disturbance downstairs! I handled the girl immediately. She’s gone, off the payroll, trespass warning issued—”
“Doug,” Adrian interrupted calmly. He was sitting now, color slowly returning to his sharp, sculpted face.
“Y-yes, sir?”
“Emma stays. You go.”
Doug blinked, uncomprehending. “Sir?”
“You threw a woman out into the street because she kept me from choking to death on marble while you worried about drive-thru times,” Adrian said. “Your severance is five minutes to clear your desk before Marcus escorts you into the alley. If I ever see your face in Vale Tower again, you will discover why the Chicago River never gives back what it takes.”
Doug turned to Emma, pleading with his eyes. Emma looked back, remembered how he had sneered at her weight and threatened her rent money, and deliberately took another sip of her water.
Doug scrambled backward through the doors like a beaten dog.
When the room cleared, leaving only Marcus stationed outside, Adrian turned his full attention back to Emma.
“You have nowhere to go,” Adrian stated. It wasn't a question.
Emma flushed, self-conscious under his intense inspection. “I have an extended-stay motel. Until Friday.”
“Not anymore.” Adrian opened a leather ledger. “You are twenty-nine. You have twenty-seven dollars to your name. Your father was Thomas Brooks, master mechanic, died two years ago with fifty thousand dollars in medical debt that you’ve been paying off sixty dollars at a time.”
Emma’s breath hitched. “You ran a background check on me in ten minutes?”
“I run a criminal logistics empire, Miss Brooks. Ten minutes is slow.” He closed the ledger. “Someone inside my organization is trying to kill me. They bribed my technician. They probably bribed my cooks. For the next thirty days, you prepare everything that crosses my lips. Coffee, food, water. You live on the penthouse floor.”
“I’m a barista, Mr. Vale, not a private chef or a mercenary.”
Adrian stood up and walked toward her. He was taller than she realized, broad-shouldered and imposing, smelling of expensive cedarwood and clean linen. He stopped just inches away, looking down into her wide hazel eyes.
“You saved my life today, Emma. In my world, loyalty is bought with blood, but survival is priceless. I’ll pay off your father’s debts by noon tomorrow. I’ll give you ten thousand dollars cash every week. And when this is over, you will own whatever café in Chicago you point your finger at.”
Emma’s throat went dry. “And if I say no?”
May you like
Adrian tilted his head, his thumb brushing against a stray lock of hair near her cheek. His touch was unexpectedly warm. “You won’t say no. You looked at a dying monster today and chose to shield him with your own body. You have a good heart, Emma Brooks. And I am going to keep you very close.”
***