Chapter 2 - The Sound of Silk
By strike twelve, Chloe had walked over to the marble bar to pour two fingers of Macallan 25 into a crystal tumbler.
The clink of the ice against the glass cut through the wet, rhythmic slap of the antique wood against my back.
"She’s quiet now, Jules," Chloe murmured, her voice carrying that light, melodic pitch she used in court during pretrial motions. "You think she fainted?"
"She’s tough," Julian said, his breath finally catching a slight edge as he paused at fifteen. He wiped a bead of sweat from his upper lip with his sleeve. "She grew up on those polo farms in Virginia. Sterling taught her how to take a fall off a horse without screaming."
He picked up the glass from Chloe’s hand, took a slow sip, and set it back on the marble counter.
"Four more, Kat," Julian whispered, leaning down until I could smell the faint scent of his sandalwood cologne mixed with the iron taste of my own blood. "Just so we’re clear on who signs the deed transfers on Friday."
Sixteen.
Seventeen.
Eighteen.
Nineteen.
The twentieth blow didn't land on my back. Julian let the cane tip rest on the nape of my neck, pressing down just hard enough to keep my face pressed against the floorboards while he reached into his trousers and pulled out his gold money clip.
He dropped a folded fifty-dollar bill onto my hair.
"Get yourself some ice, Kat," he said softly. "Chloe and I are taking the jet to Aspen at six. Have the maid clean the rug before the board meeting on Monday."
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Their footsteps receded down the gallery hallway. The heavy brass doors of the private elevator clicked open, chimed once, and sealed shut.
The penthouse was silent again.
