“So…? What are you going to do?”
I think it’s a coy smile passing over his mouth as he puts a hand in his pocket and then draws it out. I see a paper, about the size of a small envelope, pinched between his index and middle finger.
Lightly, he waves it in the air, then drops it, allowing it to float on my desk. “See if you can read that.”
Peering over, I blink a few times, reading out loud what I now see is a list. “Bohemian Pilsner, seventy pounds. Hops—Hallertau Hersbrucker,four and a quarter pounds. Yeast—” I blink in sudden understanding and look up at Grant. “This is a beer recipe.” Fermentation time included which is sixty days.
“Uh-huh,” he purrs. “More specifically, the original recipe of Kostspielig beer—the same formula every brewery in Europe is dying to get their hands on.”
A harsh breath blows out, my mouth tremoring from shock. “How did you get this?”
“Ah, that,” Grant breathes, a satisfied glow on his face. “Two years ago, he was involved in a rather severe car accident. A truck rear-ended his Audi, and his head smashed against the windshield. He was in therapy for a while and suffered from bouts of memory problems. During this time, his mistress, who is several years younger than him, expressed concerns. She said that if he didn’t write down his beer formula, eventually, he might not be able to remember it. That would be a problem since employees are verbally told how to make their step of the formula. He wrote it down for her so she wouldn’t leave him, since she made it clear if his business went downhill, she would do just that. The recipe was stored in the safe at his LA home. He kept it there and not in Europe because he thought the chance of a break-in was less.”
“But why would he do that? That seems to go against his dedication to protecting his beer.”
“Ha.” His chest jerks with a laugh. “Yes, but it appears Mr. Franz’s need for sex is higher. Turns out, he’s incredibly partial to his girlfriend’s ways of fucking.”
“Okay.” I swivel in my chair, intrigue making me prop my chin on my knuckles after placing my elbow on the desk. “Interesting story. However, it still doesn’t tell me how you came across this paper.”
“His mistress has a weakness for anyone that seems older and richer. I noticed that when Alan and I met her at a dinner to celebrate Mr. Franz signing on with us. She kept making eye contact with him, amongst other flirtations, all night.” He shoots me a pointed look, lifting and lowering his brows. “Clearly, I discovered a weak link in his arsenal, and that’s a benefit.”
Chilling—but I forget so often that Grant is a calculating person. The softness he showers me with is something I’ve never seen extended to anyone else. A fact too easily forgotten when I’m trapped in my bubble with him.
Warmth ignites under my skin while thinking about how tender he is with me. I think I’m starting to adore watching him fall apart while he’s inside of me every morning right before we arrive at work—a place where he tears out people’s jugulars and rubs their deepest fears into their open cuts.
Actually, I’m getting turned on just thinking about it. I tamp down the arousal and focus a little harder on his tie.
“Following his threat, first thing I did was find out the next date he was going to be gone. Unlike him, his mistress isn’t fond of traveling, so she often stays behind. Franz left, and she didn’t, just as I predicted. I hired an older gentleman who has worked for me before. My former private investigator gave him money, a nice suit, and had him track her down. He followed her to a Michelin-star restaurant, then wined and dined her all night. The one strict rule was that he couldn’t touch her. That compromises everything.”
My mouth parts, but no sound comes out. It’s no longer a shock in my system. I’m awestruck at how thorough Grant is.
“When she took him back to Franz’s house, he got her to tell him the code, and once she was passed out for the night, he copied down the formula and left. That call the other night was him saying he got it.”
“Holy—” I choke on my own gulp of air. “All of that for a beer formula?”
“No.” Stoic lines course his face, and he bends down, staring me dead in the eyes. “All of that so he has no bite.”
I roll my lower lip through my teeth, a touch confused. “How do we take away—”
Slowly, he picks up the paper in front of me and brings it closer to my nose. “All of Europe is going to get this formula for free. It’s going to get leaked on the web, via German Twitter, making it so even a sweet little German housewife can brew her own supply.”
“That—” A sick type of thrill twists through my stomach. I put my hand over my midsection to lessen the sensation and find my voice again. “If anyone can get his secret, that will ruin him.”
“Yes … well…” He looks off to the side for a moment, all his handsome features stony, hard, and shrewd. “Ruin or be ruined, my sweet. Either way, Franz won’t even be able to afford a drop of his own liquor to coat his tongue, and that’s what needs to happen. And he can’t hurt me after that. You silence men by taking away what they love the most.”
Ruined or be ruined. I nearly flinch at how close the words hit. Maybe that’s why I’m living under a secret identity today … because I didn’t destroy Lonnie quickly enough … because I didn’t do what Grant is doing.
The thought falls apart as Grant draws closer, crouching to level our eye contact. “There’s a secure server at the supermarket on the corner. Untraceable, military grade firewalls.” I have to strain to hear his voice despite him being so close, that’s how low he talks. “We’re the only ones that have access to it. You have to talk to the manager, Jenna, and need a password to use it. It will be leaked from there, and Franz won’t know where it came from. As for finding out how they got the formula, his mistress won’t be able to say shit since she’d have to admit she brought another guy home.”
“Wow.” I’m breathless, fascination stealing the strength of my words. My jaw snaps shut when Grant places his hand on my knee and stares into the deepest part of my gaze.
“I’d like for you to be the one to do it, Olivia.”
The corners of the room boom with total silence. It’s so loud it consumes me, pumping my bones full of dead stillness that’s palpable.
He brushes my hand.
The simple touch fires hot down my skin, and words form. “Grant, why?”
“Why not? Why wouldn’t I want you included in what’s ours.”
“Ours?” My breath hitches.
“Yes. Ours.” His fingers tighten around my knuckles, right before they jump up, and he cups my face in his hands. “We’re connected, darling. A part of the same thread of authority, ensuring what is ours never slips away.”
My chest swells, my heart tumbling right into his words. He concretes our world, making it stay strong, untouchable. I’m dying to add to it, to be the person who works alongside him and makes the future that much stronger.
But can I follow through?Can I match Grant’s strength, or will I be a bigger hindrance in the overall scheme? I’m not sure.
“Darling.” He brushes his thumb over my cheeks, breaking my spell. “This is only an opportunity for you to be a part of what I am, what I do. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to or you’re not comfortable. There’s no pressure to partake in this. If it seems too much, you can refuse, and it won’t change how I feel about you. I’ll simply handle it myself like I always do. Nothing changes.”
Awe and tenderness brim in my veins at how amazing he is. At how much control he allows me. I trace my finger over his beautiful mouth, my choice clear.
I’m desperate for this. The power. To stop being a bystander who gets things taken away, and finally be the one doing the taking. I can have a taste of that here. The bonus is I’ll be aiding Grant. My Grant.
“I’ll do it.” There’s an odd calm crashing down my back. It brings me forward, closer to Grant, and I nearly brush his mouth. “I want to, Grant…” No. More than that. “I’d love to.”
Tenderness rounds his gaze, the corners of his eyes folding. I catch a light streak in them right before he plants the most gentle of kisses on my forehead. One that makes me instantly groan with a need for more.
“You’re a fucking goddess,” he purrs. “And I’m damn lucky you want me—accept me.” One more kiss, a soft “thank you,” and he goes to stand.
I stop him briefly, wrapping my hands in his hair, taking the harder kiss that I’m desperate for. He feels delectable against my mouth, the hard energy pounding in my blood.
He groans slightly, sighing, eyes closed as I release him. “Feel free to go today whenever you’d like. I’ll have one of the security members follow behind so you’re not alone. The streets still aren’t safe. The website and passwords you need are on the back. Shred the paper when you’re done. Jenna can handle the rest.”
I graze my finger along the edge of the paper. Destruction on a 4x6 white sheet. Grant is nearly to my door, when I think of the last thing I might need to do. “Should I call or come see you after it’s done?”
“No.” He glances over his shoulder and smiles. “You won’t need to tell me anything. We’ll be able to tell pretty quickly when everything’s gone through. All you’ll need to do is keep an eye on the stocks of Kostspielig.” Grant passes through the office, softly closing my door with his departure.