Boss Me (Private Listing #3)

Using the letter opener, I lift the dress to reveal another picture. My chest fills with a swarm of bees, buzzing and angry, aching to burst out and destroy everything in their wake.

“What the fuck.” Seth reaches in and takes the picture.

It’s our lobby and I’m kissing the shit out of Madison by our elevator. Was that Monday? It doesn’t matter. This is proof the stalker knows about me and Madison. We already suspected he could have witnessed me fucking her in the file room. What else does he know?

How does he have this kind of access to us? Is it one of our employees? How could that be when she just started with us?

“There’s more on the back.” Seth’s voice trembles with rage.

“What does it say?” But I already know. I can tell by Seth’s voice and his stoic face. It’s a threat against one of us.

“Don’t play with the boys, little one, unless you want to find out what I do to keep what’s mine.”

I want to tear the picture from Seth’s hands and rip it into little shreds. I want to find this bastard and teach him I’m not so easily cowed. That when faced with a fight, I don’t back down. I fight to win. And Madison is mine.

Seth returns the picture to where we found it. “This stays between us. The police will find it, but Madison doesn’t need to know.”

“She doesn’t need to know that this fucker is coming for us now?” I can’t keep the rage from my tone. Fuck, I need to calm down. Our lawyer is here and I need to focus on work. I know this but my insides churn. I swipe a hand over my hair, wanting to dig my hands into it and pull to feel something besides this swirling hate in the pit of my stomach.

“No, she doesn’t,” Seth says with a finality that brooks no arguments.

I inhale. He’s right. She’s already scared. Her whole body trembled like a leaf against mine. I didn’t want to let her go, but she needs to be protected. Blake would do anything for her, just like any of us.

The elevator dings and Noah steps out. He shakes his head. Nothing. This guy—or person—is a fucking ghost. They move in and out of our lives, leaving wreckage without leaving a fucking clue.

A noise comes from the conference room. A reminder I have work to take care of. Fuck.

“I’ve got to get back to work.” I gesture to the closed door. If this stalker would come at us using a computer, I might be able to do something, but this is best handled by the police.

Seth releases his breath. “I’ll let you know when the police come.”

Noah grabs my shoulder and squeezes.

That dress. What we did with Madison that night. Does the stalker know we’re the ones who ripped that dress from her body?

“Show Noah the picture.” With that, I walk into the conference room.

Patrick looks up from his phone as I enter. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” I resist the urge to run my fingers through my hair. It’s tucked in my standard bun for work. “Just a personal issue.”

“Anything I need to be read into?” Patrick raises his eyebrow. He’s not just the company’s attorney, but with my large trust and assets, I use him as my private attorney as well.

“Not at this point.” We’re dealing with this on our own. Of course, the police have everything we know about. We aren’t stupid enough to keep this to ourselves. We have resources but they’re limited. The police have more access, but we also know there’s only so much time the police can spend on a case like this. There’s no suspect and no evidence to point to a suspect. Yet.

Besides the two videos and the file room, the stalker hasn’t really made their presence known to Madison until now. She has no clue who it might be. It’s frustrating, but we have to wait and see what happens next. That’s the power a stalker holds. They have access to you when you aren’t even aware of them.

You always have to look over your shoulder. Waiting for their next move.

“You need me, I’m here.” Patrick leans back in his chair and runs his hand through his neat blond hair. “The firm has access to whatever services you might require.”

“Thank you.” I’m aware of their services. We used them for all the background checks we’ve done. When Andrea went nuclear, they were the ones to press her back into her box. For a hefty sum of money, to her and to them for their services.

“Will you be at the benefit tomorrow?” he asks. This is small talk while I get set up and ready to work. It also gives me time to cool down and focus.

“Of course. Will you and Anna be there?” I log into the tablet I left in here.

“The firm has a table every year. We were lucky to find a babysitter for the night.”