Page 27 of Shadows of Obsession
“She designed the basic architecture for the monitoring system. Made the most sense. Plus he said to involve her too.”
“Hmm.” That's all I give him.
How did they know about Luna?It’s clear as day she was the real target, not this idiot in chains. Then I catch myself - second time tonight I'm obsessing over her safety.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge thoughts of my new employee, and focus back on Tim. He's got nothing else useful. His phone's already mine - I'll have everything I need in minutes. No reason to keep him breathing.
“What makes you so afraid of him?”
It's simple curiosity. If they just had a phone conversation, his stress doesn't seem justified.
"I rejected his calls one evening and he came to my apartment. I woke up with a knife to my throat, and he told me not to miss another call if I wanted to keep breathing," he tells me between sobs.
Normally, I would have shot him. Not out of kindness but practicality. Torturing a man involves blood, bodily fluids, and noise, and I'm damn tired tonight.
Normally, I wouldn't have pushed the hunting knife between his ribs, exactly where I know I won't hit a vital organ just because I want him to bleed slowly.
Normally, I wouldn't have spent the next two hours pulling out each fingernail until his screams became almost numb.
Normally, I wouldn't have seen green eyes every time a drop of blood hit the basement cement.
Chapter 14
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Luna
The email about picking up badges hits my inbox and I'm already spiraling.
You didn't do anything wrong, I tell myself.
I know that, but my heart won't listen. His warning about keeping quiet echoes in my head, and my brain's doing that thing again - linking Roman's words to Aidan's threats. Same script, different actor. I try to shake it off while getting dressed. Can't exactly avoid the office forever.
Besides, what are the odds of running into the CEO? He's probably got better things to do than track every employee's comings and goings.
Even one he thinks might be a corporate spy? Or one he kissed?God.
I throw on my green sweater and jeans, slip into my Chelsea boots, and add an extra spritz of Armani My Way Intense before heading to the train. It's a quick trip to the office, just enough time to lose myself in the audiobook I've been neglecting. That's what I love about books - they pull me out of my head, give me a break from the tornado of worries spinning in there.
Twenty-five minutes later, I'm walking into the building. At reception, two women who could be twins - seriously, they'reidentical - flash matching smiles and wave me through the security gates for my badge pickup.
They scan me into the elevator for the eighth floor HR visit, then leave me alone with my reflection.Great.Should've definitely worn mascara. And concealer. No wonder Roxy says I'm becoming one with my couch.
The elevator dings for the eighth floor, and I step out to find Clara signing papers in the corner. But what stops me in my tracks is the space itself - it's an open concept filled with plants and...wait, is that an actual fountain in the middle of the floor?
“Something else, isn't it?” Clara whispers.
I'm still taking in all the zen vibes, wondering if our floor looks the same.Probably does.
“This wasn't what I expected,” I admit.
I'd pictured the typical cubicle farm, but these hanging vines and ivy- it's actually tasteful.
“Your name, sweetie?” A warm voice pulls my attention to a woman in her midforties, blonde bob, wearing the kind of smile that screams 'mom.'
I try not to flinch at 'sweetie.' That word's been permanently deleted from my dictionary.
"Luna Radulescu," I tell her, trying to recite my surname as clearly as I can, knowing not everyone understands my Romanian last name.
