Page 128 of Hate to Love You

“No,” she interrupts, folding her arms suddenly across her chest. “Actually, you know, I think I’m feeling sick today.”

“Oh really?” I say, tilting my head and narrowing my eyes at her. “With what sickness exactly?”

“Your bullshit.”

And without another word, my assistant storms out of my office.

“Abigail,” I yell after her, but she ignores me, grabbing her purse and stepping on to the elevator before I can even muster up an excuse or command to make her stay.

Well shit…that backfired.

“Where did she go?” I ask Cal.

“We don’t know,” he replies. “I alerted security to catch her in the lobby like you asked, but she took the elevator to the second floor, went out the fire exit, and caught a cab.”

Clever little fox.

“Tell Trevor I want to see him,” I say through gritted teeth. “Now.”

I sit in my office staring at her desk, wondering if maybe I took our petty little game too far. Of course, I anticipated Abby being pissed, but I didn’t anticipate she’d storm out of here like a bat out of hell. And now no one knew where she was.

Well…technically. I could know. Right now. If I wanted to.

Biting my lip, I pull up my phone and open the tracker I personally had installed on her new company phone.

I picked this app specifically because it covertly doubled as a weather app, which is constantly tracking the phone’s GPS location anyway. So that meant there was a minimal chance that even a suspicious Abby would ever discover it.

Clicking on her pin, it shows me that she, or at least her phone, is pinging at the Black Cat Lounge, a dive bar about a mile away.

Should I…go there?

My thoughts are interrupted however when Trevor gets off the elevator.

“You wanted to see me, Boss?” He says.

I smirk.

On some level, I have to admit I’m impressed. The kid has assimilated faster than I thought he would.

The once trembling and terrified waiter had passed the initiation test, and was now standing in front of me like a veteran who’s been part of our organization for years.

Even Cal said that he’d surpassed his expectations.

“Trevor,” I say, folding my arms across my chest. “You’ve been driving Miss Wayne for a bit now, correct?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And tailing her?”

“Yes, Boss.”

“I assume she was curious about how you came to work for me?” I ask, swiping the Antonov Dagger off my desk and spinning in my hand.

“Yes, Boss, she did ask about that,” he nods.

“And what did you tell her?”

I look up at him, twisting the knife in my hands.