The Business of Revenge

Dangerous Things

I was so grateful I wasn't in my stalker's shoes at the moment. If looks could kill, scratch that if looks could obliterate into nothingness, the man in the leather jacket would have been pulverised by now.

I tried to focus on that more than the insults about me not putting effort into the way I look and lacking confidence. I mean it was kind of true but right now I wanted to see just how angry Mr Emerson the walking stone could be.

"I mean no harm mate," the man spoke almost hurriedly, his voice a sort of gravelly tone like he had chain-smoked a hundred cigarettes before trying to grab me off the street and do God knows what with me.

"Mate? I am far from your mate, and I would advise you to leave before Security has to get involved."

"Security isn't going to scare me man," he sort of puffed his chest out, trying to be all masculine but the little macho-ness he had summoned was destroyed by a single scalding look from my boss, and his blistering declaration, "Oh the security would have to get involved to keep me from painting the ground a pretty shade of red. Much like the lipstick you are holding. And it wouldn't be the lipstick on the ground. I'm pretty sure even the most intellectually impaired person could figure out what I mean by that now leave."

I wanted to clap so badly but that would be a little too childish even for me.

The man thinking better than to taunt the beast walked away. Which I'm pretty sure is the best decision he has ever made.

But it seemed that the trouble hadn't cleared, especially for me.

With a steely look that may just have vaporised me Mr Emerson turned to me, "Miss Laurence, my office now."

And he turned and left, storming away and it was terrifying to see him this angry. I had seen it before, literally the night before, the rage that coursed through his body that exploded out of him because he was so used to bottling it up in front of his enemies and his clients. He hadn't so much as lifted a brow when Niklaus came barging into his office, though he had planned it. He was smooth and cool and collected, but in his car the mere mention of his name, when we were alone with no other prying eyes, he had lost his cool and almost crashed his car.

And then I had seen the pure look of sorrow in his eyes when he realised why I had been so terrified in the car.

Now it was back to the unspeakable anger, and once more it was in front of as few people as possible, me, the stalker guy, and Jim.

Jim, who I knew, probably saw everything that went on in the building.

"Hey Jim, thanks," I tried to smile but there was something stopping me, probably the dread for what was about to come, "You don't think he'll fire me right?"

Jim regarded me with a sort of fatherly look, he was much older than the rest of the employees but in fighting shape still, "I think the boss is angrier for you than at you. You will be fine Miss Andrea."

"Please call me Drea, you practically saved me, before Mr Emerson intervened."

"All in a day's work," and then with a happy sort of smile, that was adorable, "Drea."

I tried to hold onto that rather nice interaction as I made my walk of shame up to the elevator. Jamming the buttons quickly so no other employee would get in with me. It was a petty thing to do but I needed some space to mentally prepare for whatever was going to happen when I reached the top floor.

After maybe two minutes of contemplating, I was there, and part of me wanted to stall, go all the way back down, and then up again and maybe repeat that a few times, but I could see Mr Emerson staring at me. He had seen me already.

I was so dead.

I walked with as much confidence in my step as possible, I don't know what I had to fear, I had done nothing wrong. But maybe it wasn't because of what had just occurred. Maybe it had something to do with me seeing his slip from the cool and collected persona he had going. Maybe I had seen too much. Maybe this would never work.

Maybe-

"Miss Laurence, I do not have all day, stop gawking at the door and enter the damn office,"

Okayyy... he was pissed.

"Um...yeah sure sorry-" of course, I had to ramble.

"Close the door behind you."

And I did, even though I was basically condemning myself. Trapping myself in this glass cage.

"I cannot believe that I leave you on your own for less than a day and you already have goons tailing after you."

"Goons?" I sputtered and the word felt so foreign coming from his mouth. At any other time, I would have laughed.

But none of this was any laughing matter.

"Yes. The man you just encountered was Enrico Voss,"

"You know him?" I was shocked he hadn't shown the slightest indication that he even knew the man.

"Yes, I do. Though I am not stupid enough to reveal such information. I do not wear my heart on my sleeve as you do."

"Hey-"

But he steamrolled over everything I would possibly say, the flare in his voice as he stood from his desk, coming ever closer to me. My breath was caught in my throat. He was too close, too intimidating. All my defences started to kick in. I straightened and stared straight into those eyes that were impossibly green.

I was always one for defiance.

"You are too unaware of your surroundings. Too trusting. You allowed someone to follow you and even believed a stranger when they told you that you were being followed."

"How do you know that-"

"It was a test."

I wanted to slap him so hard.

"A test, what do you mean a test?"

Though who was I kidding, I knew exactly what this was, he had orchestrated the whole thing.

"Enrico Voss works for me and so does Hench Reed, the other boy that told you of the man following you."

"How is any of that helpful, what the hell do you achieve out of scaring the living daylights out of me?"

"You should have called me immediately," he spoke as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Excuse me? Why would I do that?"

"Because if you are ever in danger due to this agreement, due to working for me, due to any and all plans we have together. I bear the responsibility."

Oh, I get it now.

I clicked my tongue, taking a bold step forward, "Do you know what I think Mr Emerson?"

He didn't respond so I continued my spiel, "I think you feel guilty."

He bristled, "Guilty of what?"

"Of what happened yesterday. You feel guilty so you orchestrated this whole debacle to show me that there are other dangers."

"Other dangers, from what."

"From you."