Claimed By The Steel Pack
He stepped up to the center of the room, pulling a heavy chair back for me.
I sat down, placing the thick brown folder flat on the desk right between Sterling’s drink and his pen set.
Sterling looked down at the folder, then up at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And who is this? Your new accountant?"
"Calla Vane," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "Richard Vane's daughter."
The glass in Sterling’s hand jerked slightly, ice clicking against the crystal. The small bit of color left in his cheeks drained completely.