Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
I'm annoyed more than anything. There isn't much, if anything, he can do to me, but there have been threats, and I don't take too kindly to those. My plan is to show up and be a loud, embarrassing pain in the ass. That will likely get him to back off. When people know you bite back, they often retreat, and that is extremely true when it comes to a lot of men. Their bark is usually bigger than their bite.
They think they can push us around, and they often get away with it. I make it a mission to always push right back. That way the next time they think about fucking with a woman, they'll think twice.
Really, I'm doing this for the greater good. I check the time.
Carly, Biff's assistant, was more than happy to feed me information about her asshole boss as long as I didn't let it link back to her. She'll be making herself scarce right about now, and Biff is in a meeting with his lawyer. I make my way into the building, the two men at the front desk glancing at people as they pass, stopping ones they don't recognize.
"Afternoon, Jim," I tell one of them. "Samuel," I say to the other with a nod. I don't know them. Never seen them before, but I keep my chin up, pretending I own the building, and they let me walk right on by and toward the bank of elevators.
I hit the button for his floor. When I step off the elevator, there is a woman at the front reception desk.
"Girl, that blouse is fire," I pause to say to her before she can ask me anything. A smile tilts on her shiny pink lips. The color is spot on for her complexion.
"Bloomingdale's."
"I couldn't pull it off. Not like you." Her smile grows.
"Thank you."
"Shit, I'm late," I tell her, hurrying past her desk, my target's office now in my sights. His assistant's desk is empty… I’ll let myself in.
Chapter Two
PIERCE
There is nothing more I hate than waiting. I don’t give a shit that Biff didn’t know I was coming today. That was the point. I didn’t want him to have a stack of lies and excuses ready.
This is why you never do business with friends, but I use the word "friend" loosely. We went to college together, but more than that, we were both initiated into the King of Thieves the same night.
Biff was always going to be a member. Every man in Biff's family before him had been a member of the King of Thieves, as they all attended Dartnell, one of the best Ivy League colleges in the States.
I was a nobody at the time but heard whispers about the King of Thieves and what they could do for you. It's why I picked Dartnell to begin with. I had my choice of colleges, full rides and all. I worked my ass off to get there. I got into the King of Thieves because I earned it. It wasn't handed to me; nothing ever has been.
All Biff does is sit on his ass. His time is coming, and I'm ready to collect. Should I have loyalty to the society? That could be debated. Merely being in it opens all kinds of doors, but they use you right back. It's hard to have loyalty to an organization that tolerates dipshits like Biff. He thinks he has some protection from me because of those ties. If he does, it's hanging on by a thread.
I pick up one of the pictures on the shelf of his bookcase. It’s him and his wife. I heard she’s leaving him. He’s scrambling to find a good divorce lawyer. It was my understanding that he might have literally fucked his prenup. Piece by piece his life is going to fall apart. The Bradford name isn’t what it used to be. It’s now all a house of cards, using one investment venture to pay off the last.
Robbing Peter to pay Paul. One thing I don’t tolerate is fucking with my money. I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon. I earned every dollar I’ve made, and now I’m the bank that people like Biff need to borrow from to stay afloat, but he’s getting sloppy, and I don’t want to be around when it all comes crashing down.
I prefer to keep my hands clean, and I won’t be linked to the schemes he’s been up to. I want to make a clean break from him but refuse to forgive the loans he owes me. I want repayment in full before he crashes and burns for good.
I set the photo down as the double doors to Biff’s office fly open. A tiny blonde with pink streaks in her hair stands there, her boot still in the air from kicking it. She comes in like a sparkly Tasmanian devil.