Empire of Desire(Empire #1)(36)

“Your what?”

“It’s a thing. You don’t need to know about it.” Then she mutters under her breath, “Maybe I should add you to the list.”

“Are you calling me names, Gwyneth?”

She fakes an innocent smile. “I can’t do that to my new boss.”

“How about your husband?”

Her lips fall open again, and I revel in that, probably more than I should.

I love taking her off guard, making her bothered in her own fucking skin. It’s a small taste of what she does all the time.

“I can call you names,” she whispers.

“Such as Uncle Nate?”

“That was because I wanted to…”

“What? Get attention? Provoke me? What exactly were you thinking about?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll call you kiddo until you figure it out then.”

“Not that! I…just wanted to provoke you, I think.”

“Will you be repeating it?”

“No.”

“Good, or else you’ll be back to being kiddo.”

Her lips part again and a bright fucking light shines in her gaze. But instead of focusing on the happiness she’s projecting in waves, on how pleased she is about not being a kiddo anymore, I march to my desk, retrieve a thick case file, and push it at her chest.

“Go through the previous case records and find me something I can use.”

She remains there, fingers wrapped around the file. “That’s all?”

“What else should there be? You asked for an internship and this is it. I won’t take it easy on you, Gwyneth. In fact, it’ll just get more difficult going forward. So if you don’t have the will to go through this, walk away now.”

“I can do it. I will do it.”

“If you say so.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t believe things I don’t see.”

“You’re so cynical, you know that?”

“And you’re still standing here. Go work and behave.”

Her hold on the file falters and I lean forward in case she drops it.

She bites her lower lip and I don’t take my eyes off it, watching her wet it, her teeth nibbling on the plump cushion before she finally releases it. “B-behave?”

It’s like we’re playing a game of cat and mouse, and I don’t think I have the will to stop where this game is going anymore.

Or maybe I lost control of it a while ago and I’m only just admitting it now.

Either way, this is heading in a dangerous fucking direction, and I’m letting it.

Because fuck this. Fuck whatever is left of my conscience. I’ve never had one anyway, so I might as well stop pretending it’s there.

“Yes, Gwyneth. Behave or you’ll pay.”





14





Gwyneth





Behave or you’ll pay.

Behave. Or. You. Will. Pay.

He can’t say things like that and then walk away—or more like kick me out—because I have questions. Lots of them. How am I going to pay? Why? Where? When?

So many questions.

Like everything when it comes to Nate, I guess. And I don’t know why I want to pay, or maybe I do know. Because I’m a masochist, in a way, and masochists like pain, especially when it’s a result of something we’ve done.

I think that’s why I kissed him back then, because my masochistic tendencies took hold of me and I couldn’t escape them. And God forbid I tell Dad about them, because what would I say? Dad, I think I have masochistic tendencies toward your friend and I’m unable to stop them. Yeah, I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye again.

Anyway, because of what Nate said, I’m unable to focus on the file. I read a few lines and then I go back to thinking about all the words he said to me.

Baby girl.

Behave.

Pay.

Oh, and truly fucked. That one is the most important.

They’re just measly words, but they’re digging beneath my skin and jamming themselves against my bones. Maybe I should make a list for them, too, like the negative words, because they’re triggering something a lot worse than my empathetic reactions.

“Hey, new girl.”

I lift my head abruptly and kind of bite my lip in the process. Ow.

But that’s not the issue here. It’s that someone called for me. I’m the only new girl in the intern area today and every single one of the other interns is avoiding me like the plague. That’s what happens when they know I’m Kingsley Shaw’s daughter. As in, the Shaw of Weaver & Shaw. They either kiss my ass or avoid me.

The ass-kissing isn’t necessary now that they have the internship and my dad is out of the picture. It’s the first time I’m glad no one knows about my marriage to Nate. That could get too complicated too fast.

Anyhow, the partners like me, but the interns don’t. I think they may even hate me because they don’t think I’ve worked as hard as they have to get the internship.

Try impressing Nate, assholes.

So being called out of nowhere and referred to as “new girl” instead of Ms. Shaw is coming out of left field. I look up and find the person behind the name-calling. A short woman who’s wearing khaki slacks and a shirt that are both maybe a few sizes too big. Her thick, black hair frames her small face and she’s wearing black-framed glasses. She must have bad eyesight, because I can barely see her eyes—they look like tiny brown dots.