Chapter 6 - The Shadow Ledger
BANG!
The gunshot roared inside the cramped, metallic server room, deafening and brutal.
Before the bullet could leave the barrel, Larkin lunged forward like a striking predator. He slammed his left hand onto Thomas's wrist, shoving the gun toward the ceiling just as it fired. The bullet shattered a row of glass server panels above us, sending a shower of sparks and glittering shards down into the room.
Larkin didn't hesitate. He delivered a devastating right hook to Thomas's jaw, followed by a knee to his midsection.
Thomas collapsed onto the hard metal floor with a painful groan, dropping his revolver. It skidded across the floor and stopped right against the steel tip of my shoe.
I casually kicked the gun into the hallway.
Larkin stood over his cousin, breathing heavily, his tuxedo jacket slightly disheveled. He reached down, grabbed Thomas by his collar, and yanked him up until their faces were inches apart.
"You pointed a gun at her," Larkin whispered, his voice vibrating with a terrifying, unhinged fury I had never heard from him before. "In my building. On my floor."
"Larkin... please..." Thomas begged, blood dripping from his lip. "We're family! We're blood!"
"Family doesn't steal," Larkin hissed. He turned his head slightly toward the door. "Marcus! Get in here!"
Marcus Vance—Larkin's head of security—stepped into the server room accompanied by two heavy-set guards in black tactical gear.
"Take him to the basement facility in New Jersey," Larkin commanded, throwing Thomas onto the floor like a sack of dirty laundry. "Keep him alive until I figure out how deep his connection to Julian Vance goes."
"No! Larkin, please! Don't send me to Jersey!" Thomas screamed as the two guards dragged him out by his arms, his shoes dragging uselessly against the carpet.
When the hallway fell silent again, only the hum of the cooling fans and the faint hiss of broken server lights remained.
Larkin turned slowly to face me.
He took two steps closer, his hands reaching out to grab my upper arms. His eyes scanned every inch of my body, checking for blood, checking for wounds.
"Did any of that glass hit you?" he asked, his voice raw.
"I'm fine, Larkin," I whispered softly.
His hands slid up from my arms to frame my face. His thumbs brushed gently over my cheekbones, wiping away a tiny speck of dust from the shattered panel. His blue eyes were burning with a dangerous mixture of relief, anger, and unvarnished desire.
"You lied to him," Larkin said softly, his chest rising and falling against mine. "The real ledger was on that drive."
I let out a tiny, breathless laugh. "Of course it was. But panic makes men make stupid mistakes. If I hadn't made him hesitate, he would have shot you the moment you walked through that door."
Larkin stared at me, his gaze dropping to my red lips.
"You saved my life tonight, Penelope," he murmured. "Twice."
"It's my job," I whispered back, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. "I manage your assets."
"You're not my employee anymore," Larkin said flatly.
May you like
Before I could ask what he meant, he leaned down and pulled my mouth to his in a deep, electric, possessive kiss.
The heat of it burned through me instantly. My hands rose on instinct, my fingers tangling into the soft hair at the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the darkness of the forty-second floor swallowed us whole.
