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Chapter no 44 – JULES

Twisted Hate (Twisted, #3)

My breakfast rose in my throat, and I had to make a

conscious effort to force it back down when I hung up Joshโ€™s call.

I felt faker than aย Mona Lisaย print hanging in the lobby of a seedy motel.

You hire someone to break into my place, Red? Because if youโ€™d really wanted to get rid of the art, you couldโ€™ve just asked. I wouldโ€™ve thrown it away for you.

I wiped a clammy palm against my thigh.

Stella had already left for work, so it was just me and my screaming conscience.

Youโ€™re a liar and a terrible person. Josh was right about you all along,ย the insidious voice in my head taunted.ย Youโ€™re the worst thing thatโ€™s ever happened to him.

โ€œShut up.โ€

This is why everyone always leaves you. Why no one loves you. You donโ€™t deserveโ€”

โ€œShut.ย Up.โ€

I paced the living room, trying to drown out the insecurities rearing their ugly heads.

Iย wasnโ€™tย a bad person. Sometimes, I made bad decisions, but that didnโ€™t make me a bad person. Right?

Sweat stuck my shirt to my skin.

โ€œItโ€™s fine. I have a plan. Iโ€™m going to return everything to him, and Iโ€™ll get rid of Max.โ€ Saying the words out loud eased some of my nausea.

I didnโ€™t have the luxury of wallowing if I wanted to carry out the rest of my plan, so I allowed myself five more seconds of self-loathing before I straightened my shoulders, exited my apartment, and took the elevator up one floor.

It was time for phase two.

As long as Max had the tape, he had leverage over me. I wasnโ€™t naive enough to trust heโ€™d go away no matter how much I โ€œrepaidโ€ him. The only way to get rid of him for good was to get rid of the tape. I didnโ€™t know if it was possible to destroy every copy of a digital file for good, but I was desperate enough to try.

The only reason I hadnโ€™t tried before was because I had no clue how to go about doing it, and I didnโ€™t want to risk failing and pissing him off.

But the other night, as I lay awake staring at the ceiling of my fancy new apartment, I realized there wasย oneย person who might have the computer skills to pull off my plan: Christian Harper, AKA my landlord, AKA Rhysโ€™s old boss.

I remembered Bridget saying heโ€™d tracked down the person who leaked photos of her and Rhys to the press last year. That wasnโ€™t quite the same as deleting a video that could have dozens of copies floating around in cyberspace, but it was worth a shot.

The elevator doors pinged open.

I walked down the hall to Christianโ€™s fortress-like front door and rang the bell, praying like hell he was home. Iโ€™d only seen him twice since Stella and I signed the leaseโ€” once at Bridgetโ€™s wedding, which heโ€™d attended thanks to his connection with Rhys, and once in passing in the lobby.

I dropped by Pamโ€™s office yesterday and harangued her until she confirmed he was in town. Sheโ€™d made some snarky remark along the lines of how โ€œMr. Harper isnโ€™t

interested in the likes ofย you,โ€ but I didnโ€™t care if she thought I wanted to seduce Christian. She was irrelevant.

I rang the doorbell again. Max left this weekend. If Christian wasnโ€™t here, I was screwed.

I had a plan, but that didnโ€™t mean it was aย goodย plan. It relied heavily on good luck, and I could only hope the gods took pity on me and threw a bone my way.

I even borrowed one of Stellaโ€™s manifestation crystals, just in case it helped.

I stared at the closed door.ย Come on, come on…

Just as I was about to accept defeat, it opened, revealing glittering amber eyes and sculpted cheekbones.

It was only eight in the morning, but Christian was already dressed in an exquisitely tailored suit. Between that, his perfectly styled dark hair, and his clean-shaven face, he looked like heโ€™d already been at work for hours and closed several multimillion-dollar deals in that time.

โ€œMs. Ambrose.โ€ His smooth, decadent voice filled the air with its richness. โ€œTo what do I owe this pleasure?โ€ He flicked his gaze over my shoulder like he expected to see someone behind me.

When he didnโ€™t, a shadow of what looked like disappointment crossed his face before it disappeared as quickly as it came.

โ€œGood morning. Iโ€™d like to ask a favor.โ€ I got straight to the point. Every second counted, and Christian Harper didnโ€™t seem like the type of man who enjoyed beating around the bush, anyway.

โ€œA favor.โ€ Amusement shimmered in his eyes like whiskey shot through with firelight.

โ€œYes.โ€ I lifted my chin, trying to contain my nerves. I realized the irony of asking for a favor when a favor was what landed me in my current predicament, but the universe had always had a crappy sense of humor. โ€œYou helped Bridget and Rhys with theirโ€ฆproblem last year, and I would be grateful if you could assist me as well. Itโ€™s a, um,

digital problem, and youโ€™re supposed to be the best of the best when it comes to those things.โ€

A little flattery never hurt, right?

โ€œI was returning a favor for Rhys, not granting one.โ€ Christian seemed unmoved by my compliment. โ€œThe question now, of course, is why I would assist you.โ€ His smile, though polite, only sharpened the razor edge of his question.

I faltered. โ€œBecauseโ€ฆyouโ€™re a nice person?โ€

Heย hadย reduced my monthly rent to a fraction of its price with no strings attached. At least, none that we could see.

Maybe I shouldโ€™ve fleshed out my plan more.

Christianโ€™s smile faded. โ€œYour biggest mistake, Ms. Ambrose, would be assuming Iโ€™m a nice person,โ€ he said softly.

A shiver of unease slithered down my spine. Still, I forged ahead. I had no choice. โ€œYou donโ€™t need to be a nice person to help me. Iโ€™ll owe you one.โ€

It was a reckless promise, considering I knew next to nothing about him. I could end up as beholden to him as I was to Max. But he was friends with Rhys, and Rhys was a stand-up guy, so that had to count for something. Right?

โ€œRhys was my top employee, a former Navy SEAL, and the future Prince Consort of Eldorra,โ€ Christian said. โ€œWhat can you offer me?โ€

โ€œProfessional legal advice?โ€

โ€œI have a team of lawyers on retainer.โ€

โ€œA custom-made thank you cake from Crumble & Bake?โ€ โ€œI donโ€™t eat dessert.โ€

That was just wrong. What kind of monster didnโ€™t eat dessert?

I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to think of something else. โ€œMy eternal gratitude? Iโ€™ll sing your praises to all my friends.โ€

Christian tipped his head to the side, his gaze assessing.

Youโ€™ve got to be kidding me.ย Iโ€™d meant that as aย joke.

โ€œOne favor from you in exchange for a favor from me,โ€ he said. โ€œTo be decided upon on a future date of my choosing.โ€

Wariness crawled into my stomach. It sounded suspiciously like what Max had asked of me, minus the whole creep factor. โ€œWhat kind of favor?โ€

I swear to God, if Christian asked me to sleep with himโ€” โ€œNothing sexual or illegal.โ€ His reassurance didnโ€™t ease

my anxiety. I had a shitty history with theย Fย word. โ€œThatโ€™s my offer. Take it or leave it.โ€

Agreeing to an open-ended favor was a dumb idea, but I didnโ€™t have the luxury of long-term planning when faced with a short-term emergency. Besides, Christian was the CEO of a reputable organization, not some low-life criminal like Max.

I hope I donโ€™t regret this.

โ€œIโ€™ll take it.โ€

A satisfied gleam entered Christianโ€™s eyes.

I couldnโ€™t shake the eerie sense Iโ€™d just struck a deal with the devil. But whatever favor he wanted in the future would be worth dispelling the black cloud of the sex tapes once and for all.

Right?

โ€œExcellent.โ€ He opened the door wider. โ€œMy next meeting isnโ€™t until eight-thirty. You have eleven minutes.โ€

I followed him through his penthouse and explained my situationโ€”the tapes, Maxโ€™s blackmail threats, my desire to erase the recordings once and for all. I omitted the part where I used to steal for money; Christian didnโ€™t need to know, and I didnโ€™t have time to get into it anyway.

โ€œI see.โ€ He sounded almost bored by my dilemma.

I was half annoyed that he didnโ€™t appreciate the gravity of the situation and half hopeful that his calm response meant he had a solution.

Christian didnโ€™t speak again until we reached his private library. Colorful books filled two walls of floor-to-ceiling shelves, and windows carved massive nooks on the remaining walls and bathed the room in piercing morning light.

A man stood in the middle of the room, dressed in a suit as expensive-looking as Christianโ€™s. Annoyance etched deep lines in his face as he spoke rapid-fire Italian into his phone, but he hung up abruptly when he saw us.

โ€œDante, I trust everything is all right,โ€ Christian said, like the other man hadnโ€™t sounded like he was ready to murder someone in broad daylight.

Dante flashed a tight smile. โ€œYes, of course.โ€ He slid his eyes toward me, his curiosity a warm weight against my skin.

He looked a little older than Christian, maybe mid to late thirties, but that only added to his physical appeal. He wasnโ€™t as classically good-looking as Christian, but he exuded a rugged masculinity that would make most women swoon. The thick dark hair and muscled frame didnโ€™t hurt, either.

โ€œI didnโ€™t realize you had company,โ€ I said to Christian. It seemed too early for a business meeting, but what did I know? I wasnโ€™t a CEO.

โ€œI was just leaving.โ€ Dante held out his hand. Silver cu๏ฌ„inks engraved with tinyย Vโ€™sย glinted on his shirtsleeves. โ€œDante Russo.โ€

โ€œJules Ambrose.โ€

He gave me a curt nod and slid an indecipherable look at Christian. โ€œWeโ€™ll finish our conversation later. My grandfather just died.โ€ He delivered the news like he was announcing a trip to the grocery store.

My eyes rounded with shock, but Christian didnโ€™t even blink. โ€œOf course.โ€

After Dante left, Christian walked to the computer in the corner and typed something. A minute later, the printer spit

out a sheet of paper, which he handed to me along with a pen.

His cu๏ฌ„inks flashed in the light, and I realized they were engraved with the sameย Vโ€™sย as the ones Dante wore.

โ€œSign this, and Iโ€™ll take care of the tape.โ€

I scanned the text. โ€œYou have a contract forย favors?โ€ It was a standard agreement listing the terms of our deal, but if I reneged on it, I would be held liable for…I blinked to make sure I read it correctly. โ€œTwoย millionย dollars? Youโ€™ve got to be joking.โ€

โ€œI donโ€™t joke about business, and anything that involves my time and skills is business.โ€ Christian nodded at the paper. โ€œAs Iโ€™m sure youโ€™re aware, Ms. Ambrose, contracts protect both parties. If Iโ€™m unable to fulfill my end of the agreement, the contract is void. If I renege on the deal, I am also liable for two million dollars. Itโ€™s only fair.โ€

Yeah, except two mil was a drop in the bucket for him whereas it was an impossibility for me.

โ€œThose are my terms. We havenโ€™t signed anything yet, so you can still walk away.โ€ He gave an elegant shrug. โ€œYour choice.โ€

A favor of his choosing or I would owe him two million dollarsโ€ฆ

My head pounded with indecision.

What were the chances he would ask me to do somethingย reallyย awful? He said anything sexual or illegal was off the table.

There was a fifty-fifty percent chance I would regret this, but my desire to get rid of Max overrode everything else.

I scribbled my signature on the designated line and handed it back to him. Christian signed after me, and that was that.

We were officially in business.

โ€œItโ€™s quite difficult to erase something forever once itโ€™s in the digital realm, but itโ€™s not impossible,โ€ Christian said.

Not for me.

I heard his implication loud and clear.

Some of the anxiety in my stomach loosened. I didnโ€™t know him well, but I knew Christian Harper was damn good at what he did. He hadnโ€™t built the worldโ€™s most elite security company from the ground up by slacking.

โ€œI will, however, require your assistance with one part of the plan. I can have my men do it, but itโ€™s much easier this way.โ€ Christian smiled. โ€œHereโ€™s what you need to doโ€ฆโ€

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