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CHAPTER 106

MISS GENEVIEVE'S POV

The door closed behind me, and I was taken down a very dimly lit hallway by the receptionist. She walked at a rapid pace, her hands fidgeting at her sides as if she knew she'd made a horrific mistake by letting me past. Maybe she had. That was probably beside the point at this stage. Everyone's got a price-just hers happened to be set low enough that I could pay it.

She walked over to a door that had a sign on it, which read "Manager" and stepped aside, her voice soft. "He is in there. I will go let him know you are here."

"No need," I said brusquely and pushed past her to open the door myself, not waiting for an invitation.

The manager was distracted, looking up at the neat stack of papers on his desk. Probably middle-aged, around the mid-fifties at most, with a receding hairline and eyes which sized everything in terms of potential profitability, I knew I could expect him to be no less a man who wouldn't go for threats but would bow over at the right incentive.

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