“It’s illegal,” he hisses.
“You think?” I pick another one.
“No one will believe you!”
“You think?”
Boris’s breathing turns labored as he starts rifling through the pictures.
“What do you want?” he asks finally.
“You know what I want.”
“I can’t do that.” He shakes his head. “They really want this company. My brother has insider information.”
“From where?”
“Where do you think?” he asks in disgust. “If his own father sells him out, who will ever trust him? He’s as good as gone from that chair. It’s just a matter of time before they take it from him.”
I clamp my jaw shut while still trying to smile and not show how viciously angry I am right now.
“Sign the permit, and we’ll take care of the rest.”
He eyes me cautiously. “What about the pictures?”
“They are yours.” I shrug, gesturing at the damning photos in his hands. “Just sign the permit.”
His jaw is moving from side to side while he contemplates his decision. After a short consideration, he opens a drawer of his desk and pulls a paper out. I stop breathing, praying he won’t change his mind. His hand holding a pen pauses for a moment over the paper. So does my heart. It starts beating again only when the tip of the pen lands on the white.
Once the signature is in place, he pushes the paper toward me.
“Where are the originals?”
He’s definitely covering his bases, which leads me to believe I’m not the first person to blackmail this unfortunate man.
I smile. “Once the building reopens, I might think about giving them back.”
His nostrils flare as he jumps from his chair and toward me. “You bitch.”
George moves fast. A second ago, he was guarding the door, and now he’s pressing Boris’s neck onto the desk. Not believing my eyes and the changes in this aging gentleman, I stare at my chauffeur.
“Don’t threaten this woman. Ever.” His voice is cold and unyielding. And very freaking scary.
Boris nods into the shiny surface, and only then does George let him go. Stepping away and fixing the hems of his sleeves, he silently takes his previous position by the door.
Pretending to be unbothered by George acting not George-y is much harder than trying to convince Boris that I’m good at blackmailing.
While the inspector’s pulling himself together from theembarrassment, I decide to graciously give him a moment to find his pride. And in the meantime, I shoot George a quizzical look. He shrugs one shoulder with a ghost of a smile before planting the bored look back on his face.
I return my attention back at Boris when I hear angry panting. He’s tapping the wooden desk with his fingers while glaring at me without blinking.
“You have my word, Mr. Lebovski. As long as you don’t cause any troubles, I won’t cause any either. We are now in a partnership.” I jump to my feet. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
I walk to the door, ignoring quiet profanities thrown to my back.
George opens the door to reveal the sweaty-looking skinny guy in a blue jacket who was trying to get inside. When he sees George’s face, he steps aside, and we quickly leave the building.
The car is outside, waiting for us right where we left it, along with the man who threatened to tow it. George walks up to him and gives his shoulder a good, sturdy tap.
