Midnight Vigilante, Leonor Bass [top business books of all time .TXT] 📗

kill off his men, right? Since I’m strong enough to fight them,” Riley said with irony.

“That’s not funny.”

“Then stop thinking that all I want to do is kill Julius. I might be hurt, sad, and angry, but I’m not stupid. I know what I’m doing,” Riley replied.

“Which is?”

“Work. I have to work. I’m not gonna say no to your dad; this is a great job opportunity and I’m not gonna let it slip just because you think I’m gonna become a killer all of a sudden.”

Mr. Eaton showed up with a medium-size box and handed it to Riley, who smiled at him.

She didn’t take a second look as she walked toward the door, even when she felt Paige’s eyes on the back of her head.

Riley felt bad lying to Paige, for she did have plans for Julius, though she wasn’t very clear what they were at the moment. Although, incidentally, Paige had given her an idea: watch Julius’s movements, see what he would be up to next, maybe have a connection, to later deliver her final blow.

After receiving instructions from Mr. Eaton, Riley smiled to herself. It seemed that her path had already been written, and she wasn’t going to ignore it.

Chapter Eighteen

Riley was ready for anything, or so she liked to believe. She told herself she could be entirely ready to face the man who had murdered her sister, but she trembled more than she wanted to when she walked toward his door, and still more when two tall, broad-shouldered men asked for her name. When they allowed her inside, she looked like a one-woman earthquake.

The box she carried was heavy, but heavier still was the strange combination of fear, anger, and excitement she felt in her heart.

Riley was mesmerized by how stunning the house was. From the entrance she could peek directly into the living room; it was spacious, with five small tables, each with a set of bottles, empty glasses, and implements for a poker game. The walls were a crimson red, with paintings of different styles and sizes. Despite how the whole space gave a gothic vibe, it was an ideal place to live.

A stair led to the second floor, and she figured it might be bigger than it looked from the outside.

“Well, look who stopped by for a visit.” Julius walked toward Riley, who remained near the door. “Riley, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Eaton told me to drop this box off with some bottles.”

Julius’s eyes lingered over her. “Yes, he mentioned it,” he said absently. “The former waitress seems to be gone. Apparently, I scared her too much. I’m glad you could come, though. Glad to see you well.”

Riley bit the inside of her cheeks, trying to squash the hatred she felt for the man and his fake words of concern. “I am well. Thank you for noticing.” She shifted on her feet, feigning nervousness and playing the role of a shy, innocent woman. “I wanted to take this opportunity to, to apologize for what happened, at Lydia’s funeral. I was not myself, and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize, darling. You were in pain, and sometimes people say things they don’t mean to say when they’re suffering.”

“I’m glad you understand,” Riley replied with a forced smile. “So, anyways, here’s the box Mr. Eaton sent you.”

“I assume Mr. Eaton told you what the job is about, yes?”

“Yes, he told me you need a waitress for a party.”

“No, no. Not a party, a reunion, darling,” Julius corrected her. “Dorian will take you to the guest room so you can put on your uniform.”

A finely-dressed man stepped next to her, his hair combed back and his arms threatening the seams of his suit coat. Riley was led to the second floor of the house, Dorian giving her intermittent pushes to quicken her step. Along the way, she noticed the long hallway had at least three doors, each one guarded by a man dressed exactly like Dorian.

When they reached the guest room, she first saw the king-size bed adorned with a floral cover, a beautiful burgundy carpet, and a sparkling crystal chandelier. It was perfect and absolutely made for a woman, and Riley wondered how many he had taken into it.

“That’s your uniform. Come back downstairs as soon as you’re ready,” Dorian said, closing the door behind him.

Riley approached the bed, where a perfectly ironed, short, skinny dress lay. She took it, studied it for a second, and then snorted.

“Like hell I’m gonna wear this shit,” Riley muttered, throwing the dress back on the bed.

Riley looked herself over in the large mirror. Her black jeans and navy shirt were the only uniform she would wear at the moment, refusing to show more of her body than necessary to greedy, perverted men that would surely try to grab at her. Julius would simply have to accept that.

She went downstairs, where an eager Julius waited. His face fell when he noticed Riley without his “uniform.”

“What happened?” Julius asked.

“I’m sorry. I tried it on but it’s most definitely not my size. You don’t mind me wearing this, right?”

“Sure. I’ll see what I can do with the dress,” Julius said, his eyes sliding over her body. “Now, get settled. The reunion starts in an hour.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Another man appeared at Riley’s side and led her to the kitchen. A few women were there already, wearing the same skinny dress Riley was supposed to wear as well as expressions of disgust.

The reunion started at exactly ten that evening, if it could actually be called a reunion. It was just a gathering of men, all apparently with a lot of money, who played poker while consuming copious amounts of alcohol. The room they stepped into was the same Riley had seen before, only this time it was crowded and filled with noises coming from the men as they played. Riley had to serve all of them while avoiding their sexual advances.

She was eager for