Chapter Twenty-four
Sloane
The air in the garage feels like fucking lead.
Arthur Sterling stands before me, smelling of old tobacco and cologne that costs more than my rent, offering me the one thing I've prayed for every night for three years. Freedom.
If I say yes, the debt is gone. "The Hunt" ends. The "No Emotion" clause becomes a goddamn memory. I could take my mother to a villa in Italy. I could sleep for a year and never have to look at a stock ticker or Vane Sterling's ice-blue eyes ever again.
All I have to do is tell the truth. I have to tell the board that Vane didn't cancel the Thorne deal for "due diligence." I have to tell them he did it because I was bleeding out on his floor and the cold-hearted bastard actually blinked. I have to tell them he's compromised.
I look at Arthur. He looks like a vulture waiting for a carcass to stop twitching. He thinks he's the one holding the leash now.
Then, I think of the way Vane's hand felt in my hair this morning. I think of the way he poured cold water on me to keep me awake, and the way he held my hand in the dark when I was in pain. He is a monster, yes. But he is my monster. He is the only person who has ever looked at the broken, jagged pieces of my life and told me they were an asset.
"It's a generous offer, Mr. Sterling," I say, my voice steady, echoing in the hollow concrete tomb of the garage.
"The most generous you'll ever get," Arthur says, reaching into his coat for a pen like he's already won.
I take a breath. I look directly into the security camera mounted on the pillar behind him. I don't know for sure if Vane is watching, but I feel the prickle on the back of my neck. I feel the cold, electric weight of his gaze from sixty floors up.
Watch this, Vane.
"There's just one problem," I say, a small, cold smile touching my lips.
"And what's that?"
"I don't work for the board, Arthur. And I certainly don't work for a parasitic old man like you. I am an asset of Vane Sterling. And as any good analyst can tell you... an asset is only as valuable as its loyalty."
Arthur's face turns a sickly shade of purple. "You stupid girl—"
"If you ever approach me again with a bribe," I cut him off, my voice dropping to a whisper that cuts like a serrated blade, "I will inform the SEC that you attempted to suborn perjury to manipulate a corporate takeover. I believe that carries a mandatory minimum sentence. Enjoy your retirement in a federal cell, you old fuck."
I step around him, my heels clicking sharply on the concrete.
I don't look back. I get into my car, my hands shaking so violently I can barely find the ignition. I drive out of the garage, the neon lights of the city blurring into a streak of red and white.
I've just turned down a lifetime of safety for twenty-three more days of hell. And the worst part? I've never felt more alive.