Page 17 of Devilish Debt
Insist he not overstep.
Becausethisis not the type of person you cross and live to fucking tell about it!
“I have a reputation thatprecedesme in many of the most prestigious circles.”
“Not now, my guy,” escapes me in a muted volume.
“I have defended wrongful arrest cases for the infamous DeLucas, white collar accusations for wealth management firms such as Rice & Mulligan, and represented Oscar winning starlets like Celestial Lioncourt – who I helped become emancipated from her money hungry parents at fifteen – win civil suits against her PR agents, production companies, and an airline for taking photos they had no business taking.”
Ravencroft’s golden, chai brown skinned face, slowly curls over her black, lace dress covered shoulder to find his gaze.
“My name is worth knowing.”He strikes a cocky smirk prior to standing a bit taller.“And it’s-”
“Victor Ferdinand Garcia,” she finishes, tone completely void of emotion.
Care.
Interest.
Surprise has him tilting his head in question alongside a casual hand gesture.“Ah, so you do know-”
“Who you are.Yes.I knoweveryoneandeverythingthat comes onto my property, Mr.Garcia.For instance…your middle name – which you have a strong distaste for – was meant to pay homage to your great grandfather who claimed that your family had roots that could be traced directly back toFerdinandMagellan – the Portuguese explorer who at one point became commander of a Spanish fleet – however in actuality your family hasnorelation to him but a mutinous deckhand who was tired of constantly being on his knees for more than scrubbing.”
The audible croak out of my best friend successfully causes me to cringe.
I tried to convince him not to come.
I tried to reassure him that I could handlethison my own.
That I’m capable of handlingsome shiton my own.
That I’m fucking man enough to, but he refused.
Insisted he wanted to protect me.
Which was sexy.
Then he turned around and basically lectured me about him not wanting to have to get me out of more trouble than I’m already in.
Which wasn’t sexy.
Just condescending.
He’s def mastered the art of both.
Typical big cat behavior.
“Sit,” she commands at the same time she rotates her frame forward.“And do not speak again unless instructed to, Mr.Garcia.”
There’s no objection.
No second attempt to prove he’s the smartest or most powerful person in the room.
Garcia simply clears his throat, adjusts his tie, and crosses over to the chairs Gyles has pulled out for us.
Holy shit.
That’s a first.
