Heartless Savage (Angels Halo MC Next Gen 7)

“I’m already on it,” he growled, stomping out of the conference room.

I watched him go before turning my gaze back to Pop. He lifted his brow, but I shook my head, letting him know I’d tell him when we were done here.

If someone were going to try to hurt me, though, why they would take the picture of me with Ciana and not the one of me with Nova was beyond me. Everyone who even presumed to know me knew Nova was my weakness. Yes, I was closer to Ciana than any of my other cousins, and making me her honorary twin when we were little kids had ensured a tight bond between us.

But Nova was my heart.

She could bring me to my knees with nothing more than a single tear.

Leaving her was always hard, but driving away from her the previous evening had been equivalent to torture. Nothing had been resolved between us. She was still angry with me, still hurting. But there was no time to explain, to tell her everything she needed me to say.

When I’d texted her once the jet had touched down at the airport, she hadn’t responded. Nor had she picked up when I’d called her that morning before she was to leave for school. Not getting to hear her voice or see her words on my phone was causing a tornado effect inside my head. Swirling everything around until nothing was where it should be, tearing my brain apart until I went mad from it.

And it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since I’d seen her, damn it.

The meeting with the security guards lasted another hour, but no one cracked under the pressure of Pop’s vicious questioning. Frustrated, I returned to my office, where CeCe was still working on cleaning up the mess with three of our custodians. “Out,” I barked to the cleaning crew. “Return in two hours.”

As the last of the men exited the room, CeCe straightened and smoothed her hands over her black pencil skirt. The white blouse she wore was cut lower than she typically wore, her hair pulled into her typical knot at the back of her head that I was accustomed to seeing it in.

Human resources had promoted her to my personal assistant when my old one had retired. I’d inherited the woman from Pop and she’d been ancient, but she’d run my business schedule with an iron fist, and I’d appreciated her dedication. CeCe might have proven herself in her previous position within the company, but she’d done nothing but fuck up left and right since becoming my assistant.

I couldn’t tell if she was just nervous to work for me and that made her clumsy and forgetful—or if she was fucking up on purpose.

Either way, she was part of the wedge trying to come between Nova and me, and that was unacceptable.

“Pack whatever is left from your desk,” I instructed, my tone neutral. “You are being moved back to your previous position.”

She blinked at me like an owl for all of two seconds before her light-brown eyes filled with tears. “M-Mr. Vitucci, s-sir. I-I-I—”

“Stop,” I commanded, holding up a hand. “Your performance over the past few weeks is below par for someone in your current job category, but you aren’t being fired. Just sent back to whatever floor you were transferred from. For now,” I added when she seemed to relax somewhat. We’d nearly lost two contracts because of her over the last week alone. That couldn’t be ignored. “Should you continue to fuck shit up, you will be seeking employment elsewhere.”

“Y-yes, sir,” she whispered.

I dismissed her and waited for the door to close behind her before picking up the phone that had been replaced on my desk and calling down to HR, letting them know about the change.

“I’ll get you a new assistant right away, Mr. Vitucci,” the HR director rushed to assure me.

“No, you will not,” I bit out. “I’ll do my own hiring for the position. Just keep an ear open for any more mishaps caused by Miss Booth. One more fuckup like the ones that happened this week, and she is to be released from our employment.”

Hanging up, I pulled my cell from my pocket and texted Nova.

&nbs

p; Me: Don’t go off on your own. Not even to Max and Delaney’s house unless they pick you up.

Three dots appeared on the screen, letting me know she was responding. That she was texting me back had some of the tension easing from my shoulders. But when her reply came, it only made me want to throw the damn phone out the window.

My Heart: I’ll make sure Elias goes with me everywhere.

Me: You must not like him much.

My Heart: I adore him, actually.

Motherfuck, she was pushing all my buttons, and she knew it.

Me: Then why are you making my hand twitchy to put a bullet in his gut?

My Heart: You wouldn’t. Because you know he’s important to me. You would never hurt me like that.