Page 77 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)
By now she should know I couldn’t give less of a fuck.
“That’s the last time,” I warn. “You’ve gotten too comfortable stomping around my home, acting like you’re in charge. Make no mistake, if I need to remind you that you work for me, I will, P. Your opinion holds some use at times, but don’t let your role as caretaker go to your head. You’re in no position of authority.”
She glowers, the lines around her mouth more distinct. “You just can’t help yourself, can you? Reminding everybody they’re beneath you, C. You’re in charge.”
“Because I am. Do you have a problem with that?”
“If I did, you’d tell me to shut up.”
“So you do know your place.”
She huffs out a quick, sardonic laugh. “I can assure you I’ll make sure not to interrupt your future strategy talks. I’m guessing they were about retaliation against the Vorones?”
“What else could it be? After everything that’s happened, it’s in my hands to settle the score. He won’t get away with what he’s done,” I explain, walking around the table littered with maps. The current one on top features a layout of one of Nero’s largest drug compounds. “My father will be attending one of his dinners in a few days to discuss where we are on our business dealings, but I can no longer trust him. It’s clear my father has his own motives.”
Ms. Poitier steps up to the table for a gander at the maps. “Is this what’s got you so damn grumpy lately?”
“If you’re asking about Nevaeh, you’re wasting your time.”
“You yelled at the girl again last night. She was in tears when I found her this morning.”
“She should consider herself lucky that’s all I did.”
Ms. Poitier purses her lips. “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”
“What’s going on between Nevaeh and I has nothing to do with Nero and the Vorones. It has everything to do with Nevaeh.”
“Backtalk? Attitude? Asking too many questions? What did the girl do to offend your sensibilities this time?” I pin her with a harsh glare that makes even a woman like her wilt. “I’m extra sassy today, C. But if this is as serious as it seems to be, then I’ll drop it.”
I collect the map on the table, rolling it up, mulling over if I want to tell her. “Nevaeh has been deceiving me.”
“In what way?”
“Somehow, she’s figured out the code to my phone. She’s been using it to text her mother.”
Ms. Poitier’s brows jump high on her forehead. “She’s been what? Nevaeh? Are you—?”
“I’m sure,” I interrupt. “She’s been deleting the texts from the sent folder. However, I had one of my tech savvy men retrieve them. It’s been going on for days now. From around the time we went to Zurich.”
Ms. Poitier seems too shocked to talk. Her hand’s come up on her chest as if she’s about to clutch a pearl necklace she doesn’t own.
I turn my back on her and return the rolled up map to a shelf on the wall.
She’s as shocked as I was when I discovered what Nevaeh was up to. Her sweet brown eyes and angelic face had me fooled—the girl couldn’t be more fucking sneaky.
I’ve been concerned with making her happy. Trying to be more open-minded to giving her freedom. Treating her as more than just the beautiful ballerina from my dreams.
I took her on dates and on a honeymoon. I had a whole fucking dance studio renovated for her and even learned to please her in bed. Things I’ve never come close to considering doing for anyone else.
Instead of being grateful for what I’ve done, she’s chosen to go behind my back and beg her mother for an escape from the life I’ve given her.
Her messages had hurt worse than my medical condition.
Please. I can’t do it anymore. I need an out.
I don’t want to do this.
I can’t keep pretending.