Chapter 34 ALTAR OF LIES
“Fuck. Don’t come to the desk. Don’t sit…”
The words looped in my head like a prayer as I crouched behind Kanan Maddox’s desk, my pulse hammering so hard it felt like it might give me away.
Immediately the office door had opened, I hadn’t had the time to reach the velvet curtains, so I dropped to the floor, my knees hitting the plush carpet with a soft thud, and scrambled into the narrow space behind the heavy mahogany desk.
It was a front-covered desk.
I pulled the emerald silk of my skirt tight against my legs, making myself as small as possible. I pressed my palm against my mouth, trying to stifle the sound of my own frantic breathing.
I tensed as two pairs of shoes stepped into view. One pair was polished to a mirror shine, moving with the measured weight of a man who owned the air he breathed.
"The projections for the district are ready, Maddox," a second voice said. This one was thinner, more nervous.
I tilted my head, squinting through the gap under the desk to see my ex-husband standing only a few feet away.
The sight of him hit me like a physical blow to the stomach. I had spent weeks feeding my hatred, but seeing him in the flesh made my pulse stutter.
He had traded his weathered biker leather for a charcoal suit that looked as if it had cost more than the average person earned in a year. The fabric strained against the thick slabs of muscle in his shoulders and chest.
His hair was now cut into a sharp, military crew cut instead of the collar-length mane he used to have, and the tattoos that used to define him were hidden behind crisp, white French cuffs.
And fuck me, the bastard was actually more handsome with this new look.
He looked like a titan of industry. A CEO. He had scrubbed the grit of the streets off his skin to sell a lie to the world.
But as he turned toward the window, the light caught his eyes, and I paused.
They were the same frozen gray I remembered, but they were hollow now. They looked like windows into an empty house.
But then again, why won’t they be?
The fucker had fully sold his soul to the devil to get success.
No matter how he rebranded or changed his appearance to match his new “respectable” empire to fool the world into thinking he was some polished gentleman, he would always be the same ruthless monster deep down.
My fingers curled against the floor. Pathetic.
“…the investors are very, and I mean very interested,” the other man was saying. “If we move quickly, we can secure the entire district before competitors catch wind.”
Kanan didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he moved slowly around the room, his eyes searching around like he could sense something was off.
“How many landlords in the district have agreed to the renovation?” he asked, finally replying the man.
The man hesitated. “Well, about half,” he shrugged. “But the rest will definitely fold once we start applying pressure.”
My stomach twisted.
District? Which district?
“The buildings are old anyway,” the man continued casually. “Demolishing them won’t be an issue. If we break ground by the fifteenth, we can clear out the low-income blocks before the winter freeze makes the evictions a PR nightmare."
Kanan didn't answer. He walked to the window and stared out at the city lights.
"It is a goldmine, Maddox," the man pressed, getting anxious with his silence.
He wandered closer to the corner where the incense smoke curled into the air. "You are still keeping this memorial up when the zoning board has already approved the expansion?” he scoffed, gesturing at the alcove altar. “Still can’t believe they saw the grieving widower act, cried for you, and they signed the papers.” He chuckled. “You don't need the sympathy play anymore. The altar is just taking up space."
I dug my nails into the carpet, my jaw clenching so hard it ached.
Of course, this had been another publicity stunt.
"Leave it," Kanan said, his voice steady but dark with an edge of warning that vibrated through the desk and into my spine.
"But the space could be used for—"
"I said leave it," Kanan snapped, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.
The man cleared his throat, his footsteps retreating toward the door. "Right. Of course. I will go handle the landlords in the lower district. Most of them will take the payout. The ones who don't... well, we will make sure they don't have a choice."
“Good. Do that.” Kanan replied, his voice curt.
The door opened and closed.
I waited with bated breath for the second pair of boots to follow, but the room remained silent, and Kanan stayed.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Please don’t stay…
If he sat down, he would pull the chair back. He would look down and find an unknown woman hiding at his feet.
I reached for the knife in my garter, my fingers trembling as they brushed the cold steel in preparation for a confrontation.
God, I hope I won't get to that. Because I have seen Kanan fight, and Sienna’s skills were definitely unparalleled with his.
There was a reason Kanan was feared on the streets.
To my luck and surprise, instead of moving to the chair, he walked toward the alcove.
Through the gap, I watched his shoes stop in front of the altar.
He stood perfectly still for what felt like an eternity. Then, his hand came into view, and his fingers rubbed the picture frame, cleaning dust from it.
His fingers were scarred and thick, the hands of a killer that he is, but they moved with a terrifying softness.
Before I could make sense of it, someone knocked on the door.
“Boss?”
Kanan’s hand dropped instantly, and the moment vanished as if it had never existed. “What?” he called, voice back to its usual cold edge.
“Shipment just came in. Need your sign-off.”
He turned and walked out without another glance.
Once I was sure he wasn’t returning for something else, I scrambled out from behind the desk, my emerald dress rustling loudly in the quiet room.
I didn't look at the altar. I couldn't. I rushed to the door, peeked into the empty hallway, and fled for the stairs leading to the VIP section.
The transition from the quiet, dim office to the neon lights and pounding music was jarring.
I was halfway to the end of the hallway leading to the common areas when a guard stepped in front of me.
"Hey!” he growled, glowering down at me. “This is a private area, lady. What were you doing back here?"