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  I really want to believe that. “So, he’s not as...”

  The waitress takes our orders, and I almost join Victoria’s order of hard liquor. I’m jealous of the dry martini she orders.

  “Frightening, ferocious, beastly? He’s been called the new lion of Wall Street for a reason, my dear. He’s earned the moniker, it’s not just because it’s catchy. Leo has the instincts of a predator, he grew up with them, was taught them by that psychotic grandmother of his.”

  My stomach clenches at Victoria’s casual confirmation of every fear I had of Leandros Kaplan.

  “Then again with his father, there are stupid accusations of nature versus nurture. Leandros is ruthless and quite devastating to those who get in his way. Still, he’s far more honorable than many men on Wall Street and in big business. He doesn’t play by anyone’s rules but his own, but he does have rules. None of the companies he owns or invests in play fast and loose with people’s lives to make a dollar.

  “Leo has never invested in pharma stocks and other companies that make money off the misery of others. That’s something very personal to him and the newest technology he funds is geared toward affordability for everyone. Comparing Leo to the bastard who fathered him by rape is simply another attempt to slight him.”

  I swallow hard when she mentions Leo’s father.

  She nods at me. “He did. Gerard Kaplan raped a sixteen-year-old girl, I would think it would be obvious considering he was fifty-seven, overweight and balding. The papers and, in public, Agatha downplayed it. In private, Agatha taunted Leo with it. Even knowing that she refused to honor her daughter’s wishes for Leo to have his grandfather’s last name. Agatha believed Gerard owed Leo his name and he was going to have it.

  “Greeks and honor and pride and all of that. Fair warning, Leo might have grown up here in America and gone to the best schools, but he was raised Greek. As much as he tries to forget it fifteen years of indoctrination hold steady in him. He’ll go all brooding and withdrawn when he hits a rough patch.

  “Perhaps if his half-brother David had lived Leo would have been able to have a happier childhood. Be warned, he doesn’t welcome questions about David. It’s sad because I think it would help Leo to remember him. It was David who funded Melena’s court battle with Gerard to have Gerard support Melena and the baby she carried, against his own father. It was David who kept the battle going after Melena died while delivering Leo. When David died in a car accident, Leo was only eleven, and the only person who really cared for him was gone. By then Agatha told him constantly money was the only reason she took care of him.”

  “I couldn’t imagine growing up like that. Why the hell was she allowed to keep custody of him if she didn’t care about him?” I blush as I realize just how loud I am.

  Victoria’s smile is bitter. “Simple, no one else wanted him. Leo’s a fighter though, has been since his birth six weeks premature. Yes, he had the trust fund for the first eighteen years of his life however he stopped taking money the day he turned eighteen. He got into Stanford on scholarship and survived off a meager payoff from Agatha’s life insurance. Everything he has he has fought hard for. I just wish he was willing to fight for more. Leo felt from a young age he never quite fit in, so he refused to fight for acceptance. Instead, he became a loner, embracing his outsider status.

  “Leo feels more comfortable alone, it’s why he has so few friends and the stupid belief he won’t marry. Personally, I believe he’ll fall fast when he meets the right woman. She’ll have to have a soft heart, but a strong backbone to deal with his hard head.”

  Why is she looking at me so intently?

  “As much as Leo thinks he feels more comfortable alone, he flourishes when he isn’t. I’m quite relieved about his friendships with Dmitri Markhoff and Drake Hawthorne, especially the mentorship of Drake’s father, John. The mentorship gave Leo a firm base to grow. Working for John was exactly what Leo needed in his life when he came back to Chicago after graduating from Stanford. John not only encouraged Leo’s plans for the hedge fund, more importantly, he believed in Leo.”

  I had no idea Drake and Leandros were connected.

  “Exousia was the hedge fund Wall Street was laying bets on to fail in the first year. Leo proved them all wrong. He refuses to follow market trends, only half the fund is actually invested in the market, as I’m sure you know. It’s also the only fund not to trade by computer you know all those damn trades based on algorithms that cause mini-crashes every other day because of stock triggers. Buys and sells are carefully controlled and only processed by actual humans.

  “There is also the variety of investments outside of the market. The fund has produced three best picture Oscar-winning movies in the last eight years. It’s financed some of the best new technology in almost every industry. Leo has done a lot of great things with Exousia.”

  I nod, only I can’t let it go. “Leo has also done a lot of other things with it too.”

  Victoria sips at her martini, her eyes hard on me. “There were all these rumors flying about Leo’s revenge on his father. That Leo driving Gerard’s family business into ruin and sending Dmitri Markhoff to snatch it up and crush it to bits was a promise he made to Agatha. It wasn’t, it was a promise he made to himself. It was a promise I’m glad he honored.”

  Unease fills me at her answer.

  “As much as it’s all well and good to ramble on about bygones and letting the past go it isn’t easy. Gerard bought his way out of raping a sixteen-year-old girl. Maybe if he was stopped then those girls that, yes, Leo paid to come forward with their own very real stories of rape, might never have endured what they did at Gerard’s hand. That woman though, the former mistress who’d been beaten until she miscarried, she wasn’t paid, and two other women weren’t paid either. Leo was right, it was too bad it took Gerard so long to do the right thing and commit suicide. Even then the bastard got off easy.”

  Hearing it sounds so different than it summed up in a paragraph, I couldn’t imagine it. I have no frame of reference for what it would be like to grow up knowing his father raped his mother. The world isn’t black and white, especially for those living it. I twist the rings on my finger, already I want to take them off. When the waitress brings our plates, my usual eagerness is gone. I’m not quite hungry anymore.

  “You’re right. It’s easier to say what’s right or wrong or judge when it’s not happening to you. Living it and with the choices you make are so much harder. You worked for Leo for how long again?”

  Brown eyes gleam with satisfaction as she nods. I’m pretty sure she just made up her mind about me. “Eleven years, I was there from the beginning. I’m not the only one. Leo might inspire fear in companies and the competition when he comes calling. In his employees, it’s only respect and loyalty. In all those articles going on about how ferocious he is not one of them can quote an employee. It’s not because Leo fiddles with those stupid non-disclosure forms either. He doesn’t need to.

  “Yes, Leo has pushed companies to the brink to get what he wanted from them or on others he sent Dmitri Markhoff in to close out a company. Markhoff and Leo’s working partnership has netted them billions together, and some want to say they flirt with being unethical, they aren’t. It’s business. Exousia has thirty billion dollars in assets under management because of his kind of business. It made Leo a billionaire by the time he was thirty-seven, and now at forty-one, he is nearing double-digit billionaire status. Is it the kind of business you can handle, dear? You need to know before you go on.”

  I don’t need to think about it, I already know. “Yes.”

  “Good, now tell me about yourself. You keep fussing with those rings of yours. Are they new?”

  I’m a deer caught in headlights. “No, I—uh I’ve been married for years.”

  “Really? How long?”

  I blink. “Five years, no, we’ve been together for five years and married, we got married two years ago. Sorry, I didn’t get much sleep last night and then no coff
ee this morning. How long have you been married?”

  Through narrowed eyes, she studies me, I can’t breathe.

  “Forty-two years. We were married six weeks after we met. I’m aware Leo has had problems keeping assistants. Your husband...”

  “Felix, my husband’s name is Felix.” I hate Natalie for making my fake husband’s name my cat’s. Her excuse of it being a name I wouldn’t forget and not a rude cat lady jab is something I’m still not buying.

  “He won’t have a problem with you working late and being available to Leo at all hours, every day?”

  “No, he’s fine. He’s very supportive, very understanding. I really want to work for Leo, working for Leandros Kaplan is a once in a lifetime chance I want to take.”

  “Hmm, then listen closely, my dear. I’ll tell you everything you need to know to get the job.”

  3

  The ringing of the phone pulls me out of the report I’m buried in. I answer and give permission to the building security in the main floor lobby for Alexandra Clark to be allowed up. I stand and stretch while ignoring the hunger pains starting.

  Pulling out her file from under the others I have been working through today I wonder where the file I was promised from Diego is. Diego has always delivered on time. The knock on my door brings my head up from the file I’ve already committed to memory. “Come in.”

  When she opens the door, her eyes widen, and she pauses before moving again. It is a common occurrence I experience. My height, at six-foot-four coupled with a build honed by years of weight training and working out with a trainer, impresses most people. I do not do it to impress. I do it because Victoria found out my doctor told me I was a heart attack waiting to happen.

  At the time I disregarded his warnings, then Victoria came across the follow-up notes and suggestions. My life was an open book to her since her third year with me. One day I walked into my office to find a dietician, and a trainer waiting for me. Victoria told me if I did not make use of them, she would quit. I called her bluff. She walked out the door. Three days later I gave in when her first replacement cried every time I raised my voice in the slightest and the second woman included nude photos of herself in a report I asked for.

  I am aware my features combine into something people deem attractive. I do not see it, I think my nose is too big and brow too heavy. I also have a half inch scar on my cheek and an inch-long scar on my chin, both gifts from Agatha’s ring worn when she struck me. Alexandra’s appeal goes up a notch when she blinks, and there is not a hint of attraction in them.

  I wish I could say the same. The picture in her file did not come close to the Alexandra Clark in front of me. Her hair is not nearly as mousy brown as it looked in the picture. Long and straight and cascading down her shoulders it is dark, rich mahogany with natural red and gold highlights. Alexa’s eyes are not merely blue they are a brilliant deep sapphire. She is not wearing any makeup; with her light olive skin tone and clear complexion she does not need it.

  She has a heart-shaped face with round high cheekbones, a small pert nose, over a wide soft mouth that has me wondering what her lips will look like around my cock, and—what the fuck was that? No, not happening is what I’m thinking even as my cock stirs.

  Alexa’s body is lush, soft, ripe, and incredibly sensuous. Even though she is shorter than the six-foot-plus models I usually fuck, she is still taller than average, somewhere around five nine. Nothing about her has ever appealed to me before. So why the fuck am I staring at her legs beneath her prim skirt, thinking as good as they look they will look better wrapped around my waist?

  This is a fucking aberration, knock it off, I scold my cock. Then I take the hand she offers me. Her hand is small, soft and in my larger hand feels fragile. A low hum of electricity shoots through me at her touch, and I’m dropping it as if it were burning me. This is not fucking happening. It’s been several weeks since my last release after having to end things with clingy Tara, that is all this is.

  Her eyes are cool as ice, she’s looking at my tie with a small, bland smile. There is no hint she is going through the same turmoil I am. I motion for her to sit. Only now do I notice she is carrying a small paper bag I recognize immediately. It’s takeout from Maki Sushi, my preferred sushi restaurant. She sets the bag on my desk then steps back, sitting she crosses her legs primly at the ankle. I sit, careful of my thickening cock.

  “The sushi is a suggestion of Victoria’s. Two lobster rolls and one California roll with salmon instead of crab. Victoria was sure you wouldn’t have had dinner yet and would be hungry.”

  Even her voice is sexy, light yet husky. I imagine it coming out of the dark begging me to fuck her. Instantly, I’m starving, only I’m not hungry for food, my cock is salivating for her. I pull her file close to me even though I do not see a word as I fight to get myself under control.

  She is finally hesitant. “I hope it’s okay to have brought you dinner.”

  The slight tremor in her voice has my eyes up, searching for the answer to what the hell is going on with me. This is her fault, what is it about her? My voice is harsher than I intend, needing to put her further out of her comfort zone. “Tell me why you want to work for me.”

  Blue eyes blink fast, her hands tighten in her lap, her lips thin then the ice is back. “It’s a tie between the salary and the opportunity of working for you.”

  Her voice is cool, even. Her composure in the face of my own inner unrest infuriates me, “Explain yourself.”

  Alexandra Clark is looking through me, no one has looked through me since Agatha. It incites violence within me.

  “I would be lying if I didn’t say the money mattered. With the money I’ll be making, things I didn’t think were possible will be. Then there’s working with you. Despite what movies and books want to make out, becoming a billionaire isn’t something that just happens. Thousands of people work hard and never make it. There’s an extra something that takes a person from million to billion that can’t be taught. There are people who would pay to be where I will be, but it’s me who will be paid, and very well.”

  Now, I am on an even keel. This is what I am used to, my money being the draw. It is refreshing to have a person admit money is what brings them to me. For ninety-nine-point-nine percent of people I meet, women and men, my appeal is my money. Only they want to pretend it’s something else. Begrudgingly, I give Alexa Clark another point, in addition to all the others.

  “You will earn your money. I do not keep banker’s hours, as you can see. While I will not expect you to work as many hours as I do you will be expected to be available to me every day of the week, to pick up when I call whatever you may be doing. Is that something you are prepared for? To work for what you want? What are you working for, Ms. Clark? What are your plans for your future?”

  The question throws her, her ice melts for a moment. “I’m aware I’ll need to be available, and I’m willing to be.” A pause of hesitation. “I want to be able to write full time before I retire. That’s my plan for the future, working for you will make it possible. I’ve completed three novels to date, with my fourth releasing in a few months. My plan is after five years at this salary. I’ll be able to live off what I’ve saved while I write full time.”

  I am intrigued by her honesty. “What have you written?”

  “Historical fiction, set in Renaissance Italy.”

  Interesting, I wonder if I have read her before. I enjoy reading for relaxation although I do not read as often as I would like. “I can understand someone wanting to work with me if they were looking to start their own company, or work for themselves. You write about Renaissance Italy what do you hope to learn working for me?”

  “My main characters are various members of the Medici family. The Prince was written then, and it’s still as relevant now as it was then.”

  The tart reply earns her a smile, I have no control over.

  Her blue eyes glow in return. “You believe I would make a good character study?”
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  Her head tilts ever so slightly, “I believe I’ll never find anyone better to observe. I’ve never been able to pin down Cosimo’s ambitious plans where he was always several steps ahead of everyone else. I’d like to see it in action.”

  “I do believe there is a whole chapter on avoiding flatterers.”

  “There’s flattery, and there’s fact. You’re the one who must recognize one from the other. Because of course, you’ve read The Prince. Did you highlight it as well?” She responds with a quirk of those soft, plump lips.

  I want those lips around my cock. “Of course, when I was thirteen and then again at university. I don’t use highlighters. So, you are going to study me.”

  Blue eyes trail down my body then she blinks fast, her blush is down to her beautiful neck. “Observe by doing work—working for you. It’s obvious you’ve used principles Machiavelli expounded on successfully. I couldn’t find someone better to observe if I were in that period of time in Italy.”

  Hmm, she has eyes in her head no doubt about it. Still, the blush fades fast from her cheeks.

  “You have visited Italy?” I ask in Italian, interested in just how fluent she is. Her resume said fluent, not all resumes tell the truth.

  Delight shines from her, her cheeks are pink for a new reason, her eyes sparkle brightly as she responds in Italian. “I visited Florence for a week three years ago, it was amazing. I was worried it would disappoint from fantasy to reality, it was even better. Have you been?”

  “Not to Florence, to Milan and Rome. It has been several years. Their economy sputters so often investing there would be a bad bet. I attended a few conferences. While I was there, I took the time to see the cities. Beautiful.”

  “How did you learn Italian? You speak it like a native with all the casual élan, not formal at all.” She speaks even faster in Italian now, choppy, also very much like a native.