Chapter 144: The Devil's Secretary Speaks
The polished silence of Beth’s top-floor office was a world away from the messy, sunlit bedroom. Here, everything was a statement. The monolithic mahogany desk, clear but for a single tablet. The floor-to-ceiling windows framing the artificial lake below, a perfect, placid blue. The air smelled of lemon polish and the faint, expensive hint of Beth’s perfume.
Revy closed the heavy oak door behind her with a soft click. The sound felt final.
Beth didn’t look up from her tablet, perched on the edge of the desk by the window. She wore a tailored cream-colored suit, her posture relaxed but utterly controlled. Sunlight glinted off the simple platinum band on her left hand—new, but already looking like it had always been there.
“You’re late,” Beth said, her voice cool. “And you’re wearing yesterday’s shirt. The collar’s stretched.”
Revy didn’t bother with a deflection. She walked across the expanse of deep charcoal carpet and stopped a few feet away. She could see their reflection in the dark screen of the dormant television: two women who had seen too much, bound by something older and tougher than blood.
“We need to talk,” Revy said.
“Obviously.” Beth finally set the tablet down. Her green eyes, sharp as broken glass, swept over Revy. They paused on the bruise at the base of her throat, then lifted to meet her gaze. There was no surprise there. Only a patient, unnerving assessment. “Coffee?”
“I’m good.”
“Suit yourself.” Beth picked up her own mug—black, no sugar—and took a slow sip. “So. You and Marco.”
There was no point in dancing around it. “Five years ago. Sicily. A hotel bar off the Piazza Pretoria.” The words came out flat, factual. “Three days. Neither of us knew. He didn’t know I worked for you. I didn’t know he was Damien’s shadow. It was just… a thing. Then radio silence until yesterday.”
Beth’s expression didn’t change. She took another sip of coffee.
“And now,” Revy continued, the knot in her stomach tightening, “we’re not walking away. We want to see what this is.”
Silence stretched, thick and heavy. The central air whispered. Somewhere far below, a car door slammed.
Beth set the mug down on the desk with a precise click. Then, a slow, wicked grin spread across her face. It transformed her, cutting through the ice queen exterior like lightning.
“You mean the man I’ve been trying to set you up with for the better part of a decade?” she said, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial drawl. “That Marco?”
Revy blinked. The floor seemed to tilt slightly. “What?”
Beth laughed, a rich, genuine sound that filled the sterile room. She pushed off the desk and stepped closer, shaking her head. “Oh, honey. The look on your face. Priceless.” She reached out and poked Revy’s shoulder. “You think I didn’t notice? All those years, even when Damien and I were… well, us. The way you two would snip at each other across a room? The gravitational pull? It was like watching two magnets fighting not to snap together. I’ve been placing you in the same city, at the same events, hoping one of you would get a clue, since at least 2015.”
Revy’s mind reeled. The charity galas. The security conferences in Dubai. The “chance” meeting at the Vienna airport lounge. “You orchestrated that?”
“I applied gentle pressure to the universe,” Beth corrected, smiling. “It’s what I do. But Sicily… that was all you. I’ll admit, that one surprised me. Pleasantly.”
The relief that flooded Revy’s system was so profound it felt like weakness. She leaned back against the edge of a bookshelf, crossing her arms. “You’re not… pissed?”
“Pissed?” Beth’s smile softened, just at the edges. She looked out at the lake, her gaze turning distant for a moment. “Revy, after everything… after the decade of silence with Damien, after rebuilding from ashes… you think I’d stand in the way of someone finding a piece of happiness? Especially with someone who understands the life?” She looked back, her eyes clear and direct. “I’m happy for you. For both of you.”
“Even though it’s… him?”
“Especially because it’s him.” Beth picked up her coffee again. “He’s a bastard. But he’s a loyal bastard. And he looks at you the way…” She trailed off, a faint, private emotion flickering across her face before she schooled it back to cool amusement. “Let’s just say I recognize the look.”
The unspoken reference to Damien hung between them, a shared understanding of second chances pulled from the jaws of ruin.
“But,” Beth continued, her tone shifting, the steel returning. She pointed her mug at Revy. “If he hurts you. If he so much as makes you doubt yourself for one second, I will personally take him out on that lake, weigh him down with his own ridiculously expensive watch collection, and feed him to the gators in the south marsh. Slowly. And I’ll make Damien watch.”
The threat was delivered with such casual, breezy certainty that it was more terrifying than any shout.
A slow, answering smirk spread across Revy’s lips. The old balance restored itself. “I’d expect nothing less.”
“Good.” Beth nodded, business settled. “Now, practical matters. This changes some dynamics. Not the merger. That’s separate. But personal security details, travel schedules… we’ll need to coordinate”