CHAPTER 2 JAXON

"Who the hell is she?" I said as I stormed into Kieran's office.

He didn't even look up. He just kept typing away on his keyboard as if I weren't standing there. As if I hadn’t asked a question.

Typical Kieran behaviour.

"I’m talking about the woman that just walked out of here, Kieran,” I continued. “The blonde from the boardroom. Too poise, too intelligent. Sorta looked like she could bankrupt a man with a smile."

Kieran eventually sat back in his chair and gave me that slow, smug smile I'd been trying to scrub my brain clean of since we were in diapers. "That's our newest partner. Irene Nowell,” he finally said. New partner?! “She’s KnightTech founder and we just merged with them."

Needing to understand whatever the fuck my brother was saying, I closed the door behind me and stepped inside. "And how, pray tell brother,”I said. “Are you sure she's legit?"

“Simple,” he said, spreading his hands like he was talking about dinner and not the fact that he’d not taken a decision as critical as that without even consulting me. "I know. She’s about as real as a million-dollar pitch deck and neural AI interface can get," he said, folding his arms. "Why? She rejected you already?"

I waved that off, not in the mood for his baiting. "There's something off about her."

He chuckled. "Jesus, Jaxon. You say that every time a woman looks at you and doesn't flinch or tremble in want of your cock."

Once again, I ignored him. "I'm serious."

"So am I," he replied. "She's clean, sharp. And she's making us look better than we've looked in two years."

I sat down on the seat opposite him. "You didn't even do a full due diligence, did you?"

His jaw muscle clenched ever so slightly,but I saw it. "I had people check out her company. She's clean. KnightTech's been flying under the radar, but their figures are really strong. And let's face it, we need the boost. Badly."

I glared at him. "You don't find it even slightly suspicious that a woman you've never even met just walks into the company you nearly destroyed and gives you an offer of salvation?"

He leaned forward, narrowing his gaze at me. "Don't try to tell me what I destroyed,” he gritted out. “You fled the first chance you got so you don't get to come back and play the self-righteous guardian."

"Right," I replied tightly, forcing a smile onto my face. "Because hanging around and letting you mess it up was so much better."

He came to his feet now, circling around the desk. "You've been away for five years, Jax. You think one sarcastic welcome home entitles you to criticise my choices?"

“I'm not questioning your choices," I said, rising to face him. "I'm questioning your instincts. Which, incidentally, have been a complete shit since you began thinking with your—"

"Say it," he challenged, his voice low.

I didn't. But neither did I retreat.

"I'm just saying," I muttered instead, not in the mood to argue with him. I pushed past him, "if she's half as deadly as she's classy, we're all fucked.

"And if you mess this up," he bellowed after me, "you'll be the one to ruin the last hope this company has."

I didn't answer him. But I knew what I saw in that woman's eyes, and it wasn't just “intelligence”.

It was a calculating edge. And something colder.

And for some reason, I couldn’t shake off the fact that I knew her somewhere.

Later that night…

"There's something off about her," I told James, my long time friend and confidant, pushing a glass of whiskey down the bar to him.

He took it without looking up from the case files he'd been scanning. "You tell that to every woman who won't smile at your jokes."

What the hell was with everyone and thinking that way?

I let out a heavy sigh and leaned on the kitchen island, folding my arms. "I’m not joking this time around, James."

James finally looked up at me. "Go on then. Tell me. What about this one is suspicious? Perfect cheekbones? Can use PowerPoint?"

“Ha ha ha,” I deadpanned. “Very funny.”

“So…” he trailed off.

"I just don’t know exactly," I said finally after a pause. “She just seems too familiar. Too… cut-edging.”

"Sounds like you're intimidated," he said, taking a sip of his drink.

"No. Rather I'm interested in unearthing who she is," I replied. "And not in a pleasurable way."

Although I didn’t mind going through that route.

James sighed. "Let me guess,” he said. “You need a background check on her."

"No." I replied. "Not yet. I’ll just… observe her for now. See if she breaks."

He raised his eyebrow. "You're making a federal case out of the company's Messiah."

I took another swig of my drink. "Maybe. But I've got a good feeling about this."

"You've also got commitment issues and unresolved childhood trauma," he said.

"And yet here I am. Still getting it right most of the time."

He smiled. "Fine. I'll listen. But if this is one of your classic sabotage landmines, I'm not bailing you out of a harassment suit."

"She's hiding something, James," I said. “I can feel it.”

"Maybe. Or maybe you just resent the fact that she didn't want you."

I turned my back to the window, not giving him an answer. The city lights were bright tonight but I paid no mind to it. My mind was already clouded by thoughts of something, or rather someone.

"I know what someone's like when they've got a mask on," I whispered.

James nodded quietly. "Yeah. You do."

“Just don’t let it bother you too much,” James said, patting me on the back. “I have to go now. These files are built to kill someone and it’s definitely not me.”

After saying our goodbyes, he left.

—-----------

My phone rang as I emerged from the shower.

I checked the caller ID and it was Kieran.

I allowed it to ring once before answering. "You'd better not be calling to say she's coming in."

"Funny," he answered dryly. "I need you to come for dinner tomorrow."

I towel-dried my hair. "You mean the one you never mentioned to me?"

He didn’t answer. "It’s a meeting where corporate sponsors, investors, the media and everyone that matters will attend."

"Terrific," I deadpanned. "So I just have to grin and pretend I do not feel like punching you in the face."

"Exactly," he said. "Also, dress in something expensive. We need to look like we still have money."

The phone hung up and I flung the phone onto the bed and fell down beside it.

This corporate dinner was just a PR stunt. Obviously. And her.

The mysterious Miss Nowell.

Whoever she was, she wasn’t just here for business.

And I’d find out why—starting tomorrow night.