Chapter 3 - The Offer
Nobody breathed. The two guards near the doorway seemed to brace themselves for a summary execution, their posture rigid. Renzo risked a quick, terrified sideways glance from behind his tablet.
Vincent stared at Mia. Mia stared right back, completely unfazed by the aura of absolute authority radiating off the man.
"You have very muddy shoes," Vincent noted. His voice was deep, smooth as aged whiskey, and entirely devoid of the warmth normal human beings used when talking to children.
"I stepped in a puddle," Mia explained matter-of-factly, resting her hands on her knees just like he was doing. "Worms live in puddles. Do you like worms?"
A dead silence settled over the room. For a terrifying second, I thought Vincent might actually order us thrown into the East River.
Instead, a shadow of something unrecognizable—was it amusement? fatigue?—flashed across his chiseled features. He stood back up, adjusting the cuffs of his crisp white shirt, and turned his slate-gray eyes toward me. I was still kneeling on the floor, clutching Mia’s hand like a lifeline.
"Stand up, Miss Hayes," Vincent commanded softly.
I scrambled to my feet, keeping Mia tucked safely behind my leg. "Mr. Castalano, I will pack our things immediately. You won't even see us on your way out. I'll take a pay cut for today, I'll pay for the security breach out of my next paycheck, just—please don't fire me."
Vincent walked back behind his desk, leaning his hip against the polished wood. He crossed his arms, looking down at the scattered crayons and crushed crackers Mia had apparently dropped near the door on her grand expedition.
"You brought a child into a secure corporate headquarters housing sensitive financial portfolios and international logistics data," Vincent said, his tone dangerously calm. "You violated core employment covenants. By all standard protocols, Renzo should escort you to payroll right now."
My stomach plummeted into an abyss. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the blow.
"However," Vincent continued, his voice dropping an octave, "my estate currently employs three private security contractors, twelve administrative staff members, and an entire wing of accountants. None of them, including Renzo, have ever had the courage to tell me to my face that I look mad."
I opened my eyes, blinking in confusion.
Vincent looked down at Mia, who had lost interest in the adult conversation and was currently trying to peel a sticker off the leg of his desk.
"What's your name, little one?" Vincent asked.
"Mia," she chirped without looking up. "And I have a snack. Do you want a cracker? It looks like a whale."
She pulled a somewhat crushed, lint-covered goldfish cracker out of her pocket and offered it to the most dangerous man in New York.
Renzo let out a sharp cough that sounded suspiciously like a snort.
Vincent looked at the offered cracker, then down at Mia’s earnest face. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out, took the cracker from her sticky palm, and popped it into his mouth.
"It's salty," Vincent remarked deadpan.
May you like
"It has cheese inside," Mia corrected proudly.
Vincent turned his gaze back to me. The intensity in his eyes was staggering, slicing right through my defenses. "Miss Hayes, I have a proposition for you."
