Page 47 of Empress of Ruin
“You have only therightsI afford you,” I cut in. “Now, while I’m quite generous when it comes to you, I will not share information that compromises your safety.Ever. And anything about the business you’re pressing me on? It puts you in danger.”
Lyra stares at me with a harsh expression. “More danger than you’ve already put me in?”
I break her stare, looking away. “Yes, little bird,” I say quietly. “Much,muchmore.”
Chapter Eighteen
Lyra
Killian is benevolent enough to let me go out the day after our dinner together, and my destination is one of my favorite places in the city.
The New York Public Library is beautiful and filled with a sort of mystique that only old buildings brimming with old books can offer. I set myself up at a desk in one of the private rooms I reserved after my meet with my literary agent yesterday, pull out the laptop Killian gifted me when we got home last night so I could write and edit, and get to work.
A perk of Killian taking initiative is that the agent already reviewed the manuscript and sent me my first editorial letter. There are several developmental and plot-geared fixes she wants me to implement that will require restructuring major plot beatsin the book, and I only have two weeks to do it, so I get right down to business.
I’m only thirty pages in when a rap comes on the door. One of Killian’s security guards step inside, and my mood sours at the sight of him. I told them to stay outside, not guard the door of the room I’m working in. I fold my arms and cast him a disapproving stare.
“It’s been two hours, ma’am. Mr. King would like to inquire whether you’ve eaten breakfast, and if you’d like to join him for brunch.”
I’m feeling testy today, especially considering my burning ass courtesy of this morning’s spanking, so I mutter, “Tell him to go fuck himself.”
The guard visibly pales. “I’m not sure—”
“I’d do it myself, but I left my phone in his apartment.On purpose. So I wouldn’t have to deal with him today, the first day I’ve really been allowed out of my cage and into the world. Now,afteryou tell him to go fuck himself, I’d appreciate it if you followed orders andwaited outside.Not outside this door, but outside of the building, where I specifically told you to stay.”
“Mr. King specifically instructed—”
“I don’t care what he instructed.I’minstructing. I’m telling you to go outside. If he makes a fuss, let him know that I’d be happy to refuse to come home at all, and instead head into the nearest police station and start throwing a tantrum.” I’m not actually prepared to deliver on my threat, but Killian doesn’t know that. He considers me to be much higher-risk than I am.
The guard visibly deflates. “Alright. If you need anything—”
“I won’t.”
I wait until he leaves, breathe deeply for a few minutes to ease my anger, then get my head back in the game and start working again. Killian trying to interfere in every element of my life is expected, but unacceptable. I’ll suffocate if he keeps this up.
Another few hours pass. When the words on screen start blurring together, I lean back and rub at my eyes, sighing. Maybe Ishouldfind something to eat, or at least go to a café nearby for a coffee. This is one part I don’t particularly miss about my day job; the moment when my brain would fail, and Istillhad to keep going to earn my paycheck. Being Killian’s captive may have some reluctant, inadvertent perks.
Another knock sounds on the door, and it swings open.
“I thought I told you to stay—” my words cut off when I look up, and meet the eyes of thelastman I expected to be here.
Silas fucking Black. Killian’s longtime rival, and the man who made a spectacle of me to the world—and then rubbed it in my fucking face.
My general aversion to violence just about evaporates. I would gladly smash this motherfucker’s skull in. The only problem there is that he’s taller than me, stronger than me, and I have absolutely no relevant self-defense training to help me out.
I should probably get on that. Learn how to fight.
“Lyra,” Silas purrs. “I heard you might be here.”
“Silas.” I fold my arms over my chest, wishing I’d taken my phone with me so I could text the guards. How did he even get past them?
A quick glance at the clock mounted above the door informs me that it’s mid-afternoon, approaching rush hour. He could’ve slipped inside with the crowd. My desire for privacy has shot me in the foot.
I hate this fucking world.
“It wasn’t too difficult.” Silas shrugs. “If Killian really cared about you, then he would’ve put better security on you.” A cruel smile curls his lips. “Then again, if he really cared about you, he wouldn’t have sent me that tape, now would he?”
I think he’s expecting this to surprise or shock me. While it doesn’t, itdoeshurt. Badly. It brings up all the feelings ofhumiliation I’ve viciously been trying to press down, ignore, and get rid of for months.
