Magnus had fired him and every employee who had worked for him. He started over with new hires. Murphy, not happy about being fired, had threatened him with a gun. Magnus had beat the crap out of him.
Recently Murphy had been a fucking pain in his ass, constantly talking shit about Magnus, harassing his employees, even sending one of his girls to the hospital. The guy was trash.
"He'll peg Murphy for what he is soon enough." Jamie shrugged. "Sinclair is a strategist. He likes to put his pieces in place well before the games begin."
"Yeah. Well, Murphy's his problem now." Magnus scanned the casino, feeling like he couldn't be gone soon enough. "I'm leaving. Take care of things, would you?"
"Sure, of course. You doing okay?" Jamie wasn't demonstrative and could hide his emotions when necessary, but the question was edged with obvious concern.
Magnus didn't look at him. "Sure. Everything's fine." Then he walked away, not looking back. He didn't need Jamie analyzing him like a fucking shrink. He would see too much.
* * * * * *
"I wouldn't lower myself far enough to understand a monster like you."
Magnus stood in his penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park.
He was a monster. He lived in a world of monsters who used and discarded, blackmailed and bribed in a cruel, competitive universe, where anything goes if you have the stomach for it, and whether it was fair or not, were rewarded with money and power.
They built empires. The princes of this world. His was a kingdom of restless lives and base desires, cravings that were never satisfied and the emptiness that inevitably followed.
When Autumn had hurled the insult with such bitterness, she had no idea how right she'd been. She wouldn't be able to fathom the level of monstrosity of his world, and he wasn't even the worst of them. In fact he had cleaned up his shit years ago.
She had no fucking idea what he could be doing but chose not to do because he didn't want to be a total creep. And because of that he resented her and people like her. But she was still right, at least from where she stood.
He could show her just how right she was. He would reveal the monsters, the ugliness, the lack, the cruelty and unfairness of life that had shaped him and the people in his world, a world she never had to know because life had been kinder to her.
A flash of anger made him take a deep breath. He was grateful for it. Finally, the anger would sweep out the depression.
Autumn thought she knew so fucking much, the moral code of those who didn't know shit, those whose lives had never known lack or misery or insecurity. She knew nothing about it, and yet she was so eager to judge him and condemn him.
Why had he thought she was different? She was the same as everyone else who grew up privileged. She had no fucking idea what his life had been like.
He'd had her assigned to the Brooklyn project because he'd wanted to see her, to apologize, but that was over. She'd rejected it, rejected him.
This time, she didn't get a choice. She didn't get to leave whenever she wanted. She would work for him and if he had something to say, she would listen. If she didn't like it, that was too fucking bad.
He picked up the phone.
Chapter Twenty
The luxurious surroundings and the opportunity to work with one of the most successful businessmen in NYC did not make this any more pleasant.
Autumn waited, fuming, with what she was sure was an obvious scowl. She didn't care. He'd had no right to push his way into her school and demand that she be assigned to him and in exchange for a hefty donation apparently. Was nothing sacred?
When her school counselor had excitedly offered her the chance to work with Steele Industries, Autumn had politely turned down the offer, but when she'd been told Steele would only give his multimillion dollar donation if Autumn was his intern with suggestions that she might be pulled from the JD program if she refused, she'd had no choice.
Clay might have been able to help if she told him everything, but she couldn't tell him anything. He wouldn't understand her abhorrence at working for Steele Industries.
Besides, the only way the school would change their mind was if they got a replacement donation, and Clay couldn't match what Magnus was offering. They were wealthy but not as wealthy as Steele, and she didn't want to put Clay or the family in that position.
She would need to suck it up. For now. But she didn't have to be nice to him, she didn't have to smile or talk to him except about the deals she would be working on. She was sure he'd get tired of his game eventually.
"Miss Moretti?" A professional-looking middle-aged woman approached her chair and smiled. "Mr. Steele is ready for you."
She wanted to roll her eyes, but she rose and nodded graciously at the woman. This wasn't her fault. She wouldn't take it out on his employees.
Autumn followed the woman down the same hallway that had led her to Magnus when she'd confronted him. Now as then she'd been angry, but this time she wasn't shocked, hurt and exploding with rage, this time she was seething and resentful and a little jaded about the man she was about to see again.
When they reached his closed door, the woman knocked before nodding politely to Autumn and going to her desk.
"Come in." The deep voice that still made her heart flutter drifted through the door. She blew out a breath and all the confusing emotions he made her feel, and lifted her chin as she opened the door and stepped in.
He was sitting at his desk, his laptop opened in front of him.
He looked up and his eyes captured hers, ensnaring her in their fury and possessiveness. He knew he had the power to make her his pawn, a piece on a shifty chess board, where the rules weren't written down but were a torn off scrap of his whim, his whim.
Autumn tried to ignore her racing heart, tried to ignore the truth tinged with her bitterness, she had fallen for him. The one time she had forgotten to guard herself, he had slipped past her guard, a phantom, awakening parts of her that had never had the chance to build up a resistance.
She stood rooted in the doorway. He leaned back in his chair looking casual and unaffected, suit jacket off, a dark blue tie bringing out the blue of his eyes, the same eyes that scorched her, penetrating her defenses. His lips weren't smiling, cold, uncaring, and a chill crept along her spine.
He had been like a fire whose searing embers now hid beneath cold ash. Was he the fire she craved or the ash?
He'd been a good actor.
How many personalities did he have?
Mike the nice guy, Magnus the Seducer and apparently a business magnate. Who was this man before her now, calculating and furious? Was this the real Magnus Steele?
She held his gaze, one brow arching in rebellion. She wouldn't be intimidated.
She had told him she didn't care if Matt continued with his investigation. After she'd flung that out, like a shard of glass, hoping to cut him, to make him bleed as he'd bled her, she'd realized he would assume she'd meant to ruin him. Shattered and small, left to rot in prison.
To a proud, ruthless man like Magnus, that bitter statement was a declaration of war.
He saw her as an enemy and was treating her like one.
He wouldn't understand she wasn't filled with the same vengeful spite found in his own world and the people in it.
They were so different, the two of them, even words, spoken in the same language, were interpreted differently.
Mars vs Venus? This was so beyond Mars and Venus. This required an entirely new arsenal on a scorched battlefield where she had better find her inner Athena if she hoped to survive.
She noticed for the first time three other men in the office. Two looked back at her with blank expressions. The third, an older man, cleared his throat and looked down, avoiding eye contact.
"Sit down, Miss Moretti." The commanding voice pulled her eyes back to Magnus. He wasn't even looking at her but had returned his attention to the laptop.
She raised an eyebrow, looking away, affecting boredom. She wasn't going to
make this easy for him. Crossing her arms, Autumn gazed over his head defiantly.
"I'd rather stand, thanks."
She could feel his eyes burning into her, her heart squeezing with apprehension, each beat quick and sharp.
"I said sit down." The voice was all spiked edges and pointed teeth. Magnus Steele the seducer was gone, Mike was gone, and as the curtain rose, Magnus Steele the arch villain took the stage.
Autumn swallowed and dragged her eyes to his face. His stare became the abyss, his nostrils flared and lips that had branded her body with hot, seductive caresses were now cold and rigid.
She barely controlled the trembling that started to wrack her body. Agony, fear, regret, all of those emotions walked with her to the chair. She took a deep breath, not wanting him to know he affected her. Behind her, the men were leaving, and she waited until there was silence again.
She sat, chin up, back rigid. After what seemed like hours, holding still, barely breathing, betraying no emotion, no expression, Autumn heard his chair creak and his voice permeate with tension.
"You will be working for me three days a week for four hours a day. The hours you work will be at my discretion." His voice was hard and unwavering. "I expect full cooperation, Miss Moretti. You will do as I say, when I say it."
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. "Is that clear?"
Autumn met his stony gaze with a cool one of her own. At least she hoped it was. "I will need to know ahead of time what your scheduling requirements will be, Mr. Steele. My preference is morning which is the normal schedule for internships. I realize...."
"Enough." He ground out, his eyes fiery blue orbs.
"You will get a schedule the prior week and no fucking sooner. I expect you to be on time and ready to engage. If you give me any trouble, I will drop you on your ass and so will the school program. If you want to test me, be my guest."
There was a charged silence, one she didn't attempt to fill with protestations that would only piss him off, and although pissing him off made her feel better, it wasn't productive.
"Any questions?"
"Yes." She boldly held his gaze. "Can I go now?"
Okay she couldn't help pissing him off. Could anyone blame her?
His eyebrow shot up and he stared as Autumn looked back toward the window, ignoring him.
"No, but what you can do is chuck the fucking attitude." He slammed his palm on the desk, shooting to his feet and moving around the desk.
Autumn swallowed and through another bout of trembling, effected a glare. "If you don't like my attitude, you can find yourself another intern."
His own glare, far more practiced than hers, swept down her body like darts, stabbing, with painful jabs to her heart and pride.
He was directly in front of her, his crotch right in her face. She colored, shifting her gaze, but he didn't move and she was fully aware of every inch of his body, memories of him naked and aroused above her, his lips, his touch, his hot perusal of her body caused an unwanted yearning to flood her, diluting her anger.
No. She would not let him win.
His clean, masculine scent mingled with the tension. She couldn't breathe; she became faint as more memories added to the deluge. Mars had weapons she hadn't expected.
She had touched this man, been touched by him, intimately. She had gripped those shoulders and raked her nails over that back, wrapped her legs around muscled hips and thighs, welcomed him into her, moved with him and felt his throbbing release, his body tensing in ecstasy as he surrendered to their intimacy. Afterwards he had kissed her sweetly, hungrily.
Breathless, heat coursing through her, she turned her head further away.
Magnus gripped her chin between his fingers and jerked her head up, his eyes blazing with scorn.
"I know you'd love to see me in prison on some trumped-up FBI charge, but it's not going to happen, sweetheart." His voice was menacing.
He stepped away, moving to the window, and Autumn blew out a silent relief as she watched him. He rubbed his jaw, still turned away from her. She waited for him to say something.
Her eyes drifted furtively down his broad back, his shirt strained across hard muscles.
"You can get your ass up and join me."
She snapped her eyes to his impatient scowl now trained on her.
Standing, she took time to smooth her jacket and skirt before joining him. She wouldn't not obey him, but she would show him she wasn't about to snap to attention.
He tapped his pen on the stack of papers on a side table as he watched her with jaw clenched.
"Have you ever been through a complete business transaction?" His glare relaxing slightly, he laid his hand on top of a stack of paper.
So he really planned to teach her. She wasn't expecting that. She'd been pretty sure he'd try to torture and humiliate her with fetching and filing and cleaning, all while barking and swearing at her.
Autumn flicked her eyes over the top document. What kind of transaction? She might be in familiar territory here. The tension eased.
"I've heard thousands of conversations about wine transactions, but I have never seen the paperwork from beginning to end."
She colored as she realized the types of deals he meant were far more complicated than wine purchases and the other small transactions she'd seen.
"So no, not really." She bit her lip and dropped her gaze.
He didn't say anything and she glanced up at him. His eyes were slightly narrowed as if he was studying her.
"What?" She whispered, dread filling her.
Magnus shook his head. "Nothing."
He rubbed the back of his neck before picking up the first document and taking her through one of his resort deals.
Autumn tried not to get too close to him, tried to keep a physical and emotional distance between them, but soon she found herself immersed in the business at hand and forgot all about keeping that gap between them.
"You already have a team in Sarasota?" Autumn asked, flipping through the agreements and applications, scanning the text.
She'd read through so many documents and drafted her own that she easily recognized the familiar wording, the legalese, the parties involved, the finances and the standard phrases pertinent to each document.
She noticed some of the agreements were worded differently than the standard form, a tweaked phrasing or an added financing clause, which meant Magnus had a creative legal team that thought out of the box.
"I do." He said.
She could feel him looking at her again, his gaze full of heat and intensity, but this time she avoided eye contact.
She was here to learn and to work. Nothing else. He ran hot and cold with her. Cold, unfeeling she could take. It was the hot, simmering that was causing her body some trouble.
She ignored the storm raging inside of her and focused on the deal. Why had he been under FBI investigation? Was it the blackmail? Because he seemed to run a legitimate business. Matt hadn't told her much. She hadn't expected him to.
As ridiculous as it seemed, Magnus could have broken laws he didn't know existed. There were always new laws. Maybe he used corporate resources for personal reasons or sent a gift to a politician that was mistaken for bribery.
No, Magnus wouldn't be so naïve about business, besides she'd been on the receiving end of his ruthlessness. There must be something else, something illegal or unethical.
She tempered her unease and focused on the papers. "So...you mostly deal in real estate and resorts...and you own your own construction business?" She hedged, leaving it open for him to fill in with information on his businesses.
"Yes." He'd hesitated so she looked up. He was frowning, his blue eyes studying her intently. He was hiding something. Surely, there was more. Why would he need to use blackmail if his dealings were above board?
She dropped her eyes to the document she'd been reviewing. Did it really matter? She already knew he was ruthless, but obviously he thought it mattered. Did he think s
he'd tell Matt? He couldn't actually care if she saw him for what he was. He couldn't care less about her.
Chapter Twenty-One
She was late.
Magnus paced his office. This was only the first time she'd been late in two weeks, but hadn't he fucking told her to be on time? He had better things to do than wait on Autumn Moretti. It was almost too much of a hassle to deal with her shitty attitude.
Striding to the window, he glanced at his watch and clenched his jaw. 8:30. Fucking 30 minutes late. If she thought she could skip coming, she'd better think again. He would be on the phone to NYU so fucking fast, she'd be out of the program on her uptight ass. She'd find out the hard way who pulled the strings.
Another few minutes passed and he whirled around, striding to his desk. He stopped before he reached it, feeling out of sync.
What the fuck had he been thinking? She didn't belong here. She didn't belong to him. He'd thought he could manipulate her, punish her for not...for not what? For not caring about him? Because that's what it came down to. That's what all of this bullshit was about. He wanted to punish her for hating him.
He finished crossing to his desk, dropping into the chair, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling.
Was he such a pathetic bastard that he'd hurt her for not having feelings for him? He could force her to be with him...for now, but he couldn't make her stay.
And having her here wouldn't make her love him. She would leave him eventually, especially when she found out he did more than just build resorts. He shoved both hands through his hair. Fuck.
He hadn't even considered that Moretti wouldn't have told her, but why would he? He wouldn't want to get Autumn involved in FBI bullshit. And yet wouldn't Moretti try to warn her away from him by painting the ugliest picture he could?
A wave of panic crashed through his chest. If she felt contempt for him now, what would she think of him when she discovered the other ways he made money? But fuck. They were gentlemen's clubs. They were legit. The prostitution wasn't, but that really had nothing to do with him.
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