Chapter 18 Grind

Anthony, on the other hand, leaned forward to pick his drink up and gulped it down at one go. The only sound that could be heard over the blasting music was that of the harsh and nervous breathing of the people scattered across the room. No one dared to move a muscle. It was fascinating to observe the amount of control Anthony had over these people. They were all well-experienced assassins and could easily leave his side, but he held them all together. He made them fear him. Such was the power of Anthony Murray.


"Scott is dead," he began.


I heard the sharp intakes of breath in the small crowd. I looked around to read the expression on everyone's faces. One particular person caught my notice. Sean, the hacker, was looking directly at me, his eyes filled with question. I stared back at him, silently asking him to look away. His eyes shifted back to Anthony who was now facing the others in the room.


"Jared, I need you to search the dock again, find out where he hid the shipments. I need the losses recovered within two weeks."


The blonde haired boy, who had a constipated look on his face just nodded. He was in trouble because the shipments had been stolen from under his nose.


"Eric, find out who Scott was working for exactly, take the men under you and a few of the other people present in this room." Eric opened his mouth to say something, but Anthony cut him off. "I know that you have your doubts, but we can't go in blindly with what you think happened," he snapped. "Get to work, Eric. Now!"


Eric went out of the door silently, without a glance back.


What was the plan that Scott ruined? How did it affect him so much? This was it. At last, I had something concrete to work on.


"Sean!" Anthony barked. The boy jumped back, startled by the harshness in Anthony's voice. "Trace the people who hacked into our system. I want to know how they found the loophole." Sean gulped but said nothing to protest.


"Mia." My eyes were focused on him.


His shoulders were pushed back, his eyes were darker, and his jaw was clenched.


"How much do you know about computers?" His voice was low, his question meant to be answered in negative.


"I know a few things," I admitted hoarsely, letting him win for the moment. I had never faced his anger in full force, and I had no intention of experiencing it firsthand. He grinned, the anger fading slowly from his eyes.


"You'll be joining Sean. I hope you learn something productive." I nodded and waited until he dismissed everyone.


He didn't.


I sauntered to where my drink was and grabbed it. Taking a sip, I turned my back towards Anthony Murray and exited the room. I felt satisfied walking away from Anthony.


I found myself at the bar again, sitting on a stool and looking at the people who moved to the music. It was a mixture of intense passion and alcohol. Everyone danced without inhibition, throwing their heads back, letting their bodies go with the music.


"Another drink?" I heard the bartender say.


"Of course, Mr. Bartender," I said with a slight smile.


"Mixologist," he grumbled.


"Excuse me?" I asked, confused. He shook his head as he poured me my drink.


"I'm a mixologist," he clarified. "I had a dream to take my passion to extraordinary degrees." I nodded, impressed by the intensity of his need to fulfill his goal. "So, tell me, why are you here with my boss?"


"Your boss?" I snorted. "To be honest? He never got to the point!" I whispered conspiratorially. His lips broke into a smile. "You're used to his... rudeness?"


"He's usually a pretty cool guy. Tips a lot and hangs around with the crowd, but he's in a foul mood today. I've learned to go with it." He rolled his eyes. I chuckled under my breath, imagining how Anthony would ever mix in with the normal crowd.


"You should go ahead and dance, you know?" The bar—oops, mixologist-said after a long time. I quirked a brow at him. "Go ahead." He laughed.


I shook my head and downed my second White Russian. I felt the tingling sensation in my body.


"Thanks," I mumbled before blending into the crowd. This time I 'felt' the crush of people 'moving'. It was hypnotic. I let myself go. I swayed with the music, letting my hands do what they wanted.


It was as if I was flying. I could feel the heat radiating from my body as I moved my hips and combed my hand through my untamed hair.


I looked up to the sky, a smile spreading across my lips as I traced my sides with my fingers. I tugged at the end of the dress and then slid my hand up my body again.


I shuddered as I felt the heat of another body near me.


Hands grabbed onto my hips and guided my unruly motions. Chest pressed against my back, making me push back. Hips grinding into me, making me lose my mind. His grip on me tightened and he spun me around.


I was met with the familiar grey pairs of eyes. The anger in them was lost and lust had taken its place.


He licked his lips as he let go of my hips and took two steps back. I stared at him wide-eyed, as he pulled his coat off and threw it away.


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