MALACHI “A good friend of Sarah’s?” I repeat his statement as a question, completely ignoring his last sentence, of course. He’s in no position to warn me. I am the one who is struggling to decide if he gets to his destination safely…or not. I reach for his right shoulder blade and squeeze it. He winces as my fingers dig into his clavicle. “Any good friend of my girlfriend is a good friend of mine,” his face contorts into a frown when I refer to Sarah as my girlfriend, and it amuses me even more. He glares at the hand on his shoulder and shrugs it off. I, on the other hand, keep allowing him to entertain me. “Why don’t we take this to my office? It’s distasteful for gentlemen to stand under the sun for too long.” Julian’s scowl deepens. My politeness is getting on his last nerves, and I’m enjoying every minute of it. “There’s no need for that. I do not have much to say. Only…” My smile slowly dissipates into “If you want to speak to me, mister Cross, you will do so in the comfort of my office. Otherwise, I suggest you do not test my patience any further than you already have,” I take another step forward, and he takes two back. “I can only take so much.” He parts his lips to speak, to give one of those clever retorts I’m sure he never runs out of. He looks like the type. Fortunately, no further words of disagreement leave his lips. I hope, for his sake, he’s realized I’m not the type of man he can fuck around with. The corners of my lips curl up again as I turn my back to him. “It’s good to see we’re on the same page. Look at us. We’re friends already.” His nostrils flare as his lips press into a thin line. Julian scoffs before speaking. “I have no intention of becoming friends with the likes of you.” With the likes of me? I look him over with a smile so wide, it makes my fucking cheeks hurt. “Let’s go, shall we?” I begin to walk, leading him into the office building. He’s silent all the way. It gives me far more relief than I can even begin to describe. “Have a seat.” I say to him once we’re in the cubic room known as my office. I close the glass door behind us, and he looks around. The walls are made of tempered glass. Ronan and Jaxon call it my own glass prison, but I don’t mind. I specifically asked for it to be built like this. It lets me see everything. All the offices on my floor are designed this way. When he settles into the office chair on the visitor end of my table, I pull out mine and lean into my sleek, black swivel chair with my right leg crossed over my left. “Can I get you anything?” One more polite question before I let him feed himself to the shark in the room; yours truly. “This is not that kind of meeting, Malachi HawkThorne.” His words leave his lips through clenched teeth. Fortunately, the table between us gives us a fairly far distance from each other. Far enough that I won’t be able to snap his jaw no matter how badly I want to. “I’d just go straight to the point, seeing as I’ve wasted enough time already. Listen…” he clears his throat and sits upright. I watch with keen eyes as he leans into the table and zeroes his gaze on me. Whatever he’s about to say, he wants me to know that he means every word. A wicked little smile tugs at the corner of my lips as my right brow arches. “I really really like Sarah,” he continues. “Even while she was still married to that bastard. And I’m sure you can understand why.” I nod in agreement. She did marry a bastard, that’s one thing we can both agree on. However, it doesn’t stop me from silently calculating the distance between us. How fast would I need to move to stab his neck with the pen I’m currently twirling in my left hand? What are the chances he would dodge it quick enough to live? My jaw hardens just a little. “She’s beautiful, smart, sexy as hell. She’s…” adoration sparkles in those disgusting blue eyes. “She’s everything.” It takes me every bit of self control I can muster to chuckle…only. “Are you going to keep telling me things I already know?” “I am trying to make you see why she doesn’t belong with you or your brothers.” He retorts. Carotid artery or jugular vein? Which would make for a more colorful death? Blood would look really good on his outfit. Regardless, I let him continue. “She is an angel, and you three are anything but. I’m a man just as you are, and I don’t go about poking my nose in other people’s businesses. But, if you don’t listen to me and stay away from Sarah, I might be forced to poke my nose in yours,” He pauses for a brief second as a cheeky smile forms on his face. Mischief shines all over his face. “I’m certain I wouldn’t like what I would find, and neither will Sarah.” I give him nothing but a dry chuckle as I set the pen down on the table, carefully. “You must think we're some sort of monsters.” His fists crash against my wooden table with a bang, pushing him up to his feet, his gaze practically snarling at me. “I don’t think you’re monsters. I know you’re monsters,” he’s breathing heavily. There’s obviously a lot of things he needs to get off his chest. “I know it all. The lies you’ve told, the people you’ve killed…” “Killed?” I stop him right there. “Now that’s a serious allegation, mister Cross. You shouldn’t say such things out loud without proof. It’s called defamation.” A frustrated, bitter laugh tears from his throat. “Defamation? I couldn’t defame you even if I tried.” I watch his laughter die as he returns to his default mode; the snarl. “I could think of the worst things any human can do, and I’m sure as hell that I’ll find you three have done it…and more.” “Mister Cross…” “And for proof? I will find proof. For your sake, don’t make me do it.” I have to say, I am quite intrigued. It’s been so long since anyone threatened me, threatened the life my brothers and I have built with sweat, tears, and blood—both ours and those of others. I heave a bored sigh and slowly stroke my chin as I study the look on his face. I haven’t taken his bait and it’s driving him crazy. “I have to say, I’m excited to see what you come up with.” He straightens, jaw hardened and fists clutched into tight balls as he nods. His face is squeezed in pure agony, with a bit of disappointment. “Fine. If this is how you want to play, let’s fucking play.”