Pennies (Dollar #1)(29)

I FUCKING HATED the taste of bourbon.

I preferred sake or gin or even the occasional absinthe. I wasn’t a big drinker. I had my reasons. And hadn’t touched a drop in almost a year.

But a man like Alrik expected a deal to be done over alcohol because he was still a bloody Neanderthal.

I would indulge him on this one topic, seeing as I’d won every other round.

The slave girl hadn’t sat down, flitting around like a f*cking hummingbird, gathering shot glasses, straightening white cushions, and placing the dishes in the dishwasher.

Alrik didn’t seem to care. She wasn’t just his sex slave but house servant, too. He was barely aware of her anymore, happy to let her starve and waste away to nothing.

He deserved something for that.

Something painful.

Over the next few days, I’d get creative and figure out an apt punishment.

The tap ran in the kitchen, heralding my eyes as the girl sprayed herself accidentally with water.

Fuck.

My lips curled in disgust. The sleeves of my jacket were sodden as she rinsed knives and forks before adding them to the dishwasher.

Nursing my shot of bourbon, I snapped, “Enough, girl. Sit.”

Alrik shifted on the opposite couch. He’d already tossed back one shot and sniffed his second. If he grew drunk during this discussion, all the better for me. The terms would be heavily in my favour and the clauses I normally snuck into the paperwork, hoping they weren’t noticed, would go by unseen.

Fucking idiot.

I had things to say, but I wouldn’t start until the girl sat down and stopped fidgeting. I didn’t like distractions, and she was a damn distraction.

Something clattered behind me before Alrik bellowed, “For f*ck’s sake, Pimlico, sit your ass down.”

Immediately, she darted into the lounge and kneeled on the white carpet by the coffee table, resuming the same bowed position she’d been in before I’d invited her to eat.

She didn’t touch the furniture, almost as if she wasn’t permitted. Like a bad dog that’d been slapped too many times for jumping on prized settees.

The more I found out about this bastard, the more I despised him.

Ignoring Pimlico as she huddled on the floor, Alrik toasted me with his shot. “To being alone and able to discuss our new venture.”

“Not so fast.”

I thought I could drink this shit, but I couldn’t.

Why the f*ck am I here again?

From the moment I’d met this sleazebag, I’d had the overwhelming urge to wash whenever he looked at me. The way he watched me. The way he laughed and spoke as if I couldn’t hear his stinking secrets.

But I could.

And the longer I was in his company, the less I wanted him to breathe. Money was money. Business was business. But when instincts screamed to ignore the deal and walk…I listened.

Only, I didn’t want to go.

Not yet.

Because of her.

Pinching the brow of my nose, I glared at the windows behind Alrik where presumably a garden rested in the night.

The second I’d walked into this psychopath’s house, I’d been fascinated by her. Not because I could see her tits and shadows between her legs but because of the way she watched me.

She saw everything.

The world had two types of people. The first were the takers. They only noticed those who could help them, offering friendship for false reasons—their egos preventing improvement of their superficial interest.

The second were the givers. Those who knew they were being taken advantage of but couldn’t stop it. They’d give and give until they had nothing left. But by giving, they saw things, watching silently in the shadows.

This girl was a giver.

She was soundless judgement, taking everything in while her master and his acquaintances pretended she didn’t exist. She was strong inside, but she hadn’t found her freedom despite begging for it, which made her lacking.

And I didn’t do lacking.

So f*cking forget her, finish this, and leave.

Leaning forward, I deposited the crystal glass on the coffee table, lacing my fingers between my legs. “Do you have the funds?”

Alrik smirked. “Seriously? You’re gonna ask me that? Even after your invasive background checks?”

Huh.

He’d found out about that. That was interesting and earned a sliver of my respect. My hacking skills weren’t as good as some, but normally, I could infiltrate, extract, and patch up my entry without notice.

He huffed. “Look, are we gonna do business or what?”

“Perhaps.”

He threw himself onto the soft leather of the couch. “Fuck, I was told you were exhausting. I should’ve believed them.” Tossing back his drink, he clicked his fingers for Pimlico to refill it.

She did so without a peep or eye flicker.

I’d been around others who refused to talk. Taking a vow of silence wasn’t all that unusual in my profession (or rather, ex profession) but it didn’t ease my mind at all.

Mainly because I wasn’t a f*cking idiot like Alrik.

His slave girl obeyed him, but she hated him with the death of a thousand shadows. And where I came from…that was not a good death. If my nickname were Kaitou for Phantom Thief, hers would be Mokusatsu. Kill with Silence.

She absorbed everything, just waiting for her opportunity to end his life.