Chapter 10 Best Boss

Jaxon can't even begin to guess who this new enemy might be. It was pointless. The list was so long, you'll never see the end of it.

And it wasn't because he might have pissed another mafia don, or a business deal gone wrong. No, he had countless enemies for entirely different reasons, reasons far worse than just some business deal.

"Double the security," he said to Aaron, standing. "No, fuck that. Triple it. Around the mansion, our personal security." To Jacob, he said, "Tomorrow, my card is all yours. Upgrade our technical security. Make it impenetrable, Jacob."

Jacob gave him a two-finger salute, a grin on his lips. "Got it, boss."

He left the sitting room, his head heavy. He felt somewhat guilty for dragging them all into this, but when he was recruiting them, he made sure he stated the risk. Every damn risk they would face working with him.

And so far, for the past five years they have been working with him, he has protected them. They haven't lost anyone on their team-except Jeremiah. It's been one year, but his heart still aches whenever he remembers their doctor. And today they had been close to losing Brian.

He wasn't going to lose anyone else on his team again. He wouldn't.

***

Calista groaned as she stirred awake, blinking slow and long. There was no sunlight streaming through the large windows, so why was she goddamn awake?

Wait.

Large windows? The windows in her room weren't large. She jerked up, fully awake, looking over the room.

This wasn't her room.

She turned on the lamp and blinked as she stared at the room.

What?

The room was beautiful-spacious and warm with soft cream walls and rich wooden accents. A chandelier hung from the ceiling like a crown, casting a golden glow across the king-size bed draped in plush sheets. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined one wall, their heavy velvet curtains half-drawn. A sleek dresser sat against the far end, beside a cozy reading nook with a leather armchair and a small stack of books. It felt more like a luxury suite than a guest room.

Guest room...

Reality slowly came back to her; walking home, hearing gunshots, panicking, Jaxon, Brian getting shot, running from the police.

She sighed. What an eventful night she had.

She had slept, but she still felt like a zombie.

She couldn't go to work like this. She was a doctor; she needed her head clear, and she needed to be well before she could work.

She searched for her phone until she saw it beside the lamp. She picked it up, dialed Cynthia's number, and waited as it rang. She didn't wait for long.

"M-ms Calloway?" came Cynthia's tiny voice. Calista could feel her nervousness through the phone.

"Yes, Cynthia, it is I," Calista replied as she stood up and walked to the bathroom, yawning. Geez, the bathroom was damn massive.

"G-good morning, ma'am," Cynthia greeted, trying to hide her shaky voice. "What can I help you with?"

What was she so damn nervous about? Calista wasn't a bad boss. So Cynthia was just overreacting. Or maybe it was because, for the past five years she's been working for Calista, Calista had never called her personal number once.

Whatever.

"Do I have any appointments or operations today?" she asked as she walked to the sink, putting the phone on speaker and placing it down as she turned on the tap.

"No operations. But you have two appointments with a–"

"Cancel it." She splashed water on her face, sighing as the cool water met her skin.

"M-ma'am?"

"Cancel all my appointments, Cynthia."

"Are you... are you okay, ma'am?"

Calista cupped her hands under the tap and filled it with water before she poured it into her mouth, rinsed her mouth, and spit it out. She didn't have a toothbrush so this will have to do for now.

"I'm very sick, Cynthia," she answered.

Cynthia gasped. "Oh my god! What's wrong? Is it serious?"

She picked up the phone as she left the bathroom and the room to go hunt for food. She was damn hungry. "I fell from a very long staircase and broke my legs. Plural, Cynthia."

She nearly burst out laughing when she heard Cynthia's horrified gasp. She bit it down as she followed the smell of bacon to the kitchen and Cynthia sputtered on. "Oh god. Is it serious? How did you even fall?" Then she gasped again. "Will you be able to walk again?!"

Calista couldn't hold it in anymore. She burst out laughing as she reached the kitchen and all five heads turned to her.

"Bye, Cici," she chuckled as she ended the call and walked into the kitchen, smiling at the faces that were still looking at her. "I'm the best boss anyone could ever wish for."

Jaxon chuckled.

Aelina giggled.

Jacob smiled softly.

Brian waved at her.

Blondie scowled.

"Good morning, beautiful people," she greeted, taking the seat beside Aelina. "Except Blondie."

Said Blondie continued to scowl at her and she winked at him. He looked away, his face going red.

She chuckled as she turned to Brian. "Hey, sweetie."

He gave her a bright smile. "Hi."

"How ya feeling?"

"A little sour and a bit of pain here and there, but I'm fine."

She nodded. "Music to my ears."

"How did you sleep?" Jaxon asked, his deep morning making a part of her tingle and grow a little wet.

She opened her mouth to answer, turning to face him. But the words caught in her throat.

By all that is spicy and sacred! He was naked! Well, not really-he was just naked from the waist upwards, but a girl is allowed to be dramatic. If she thought he was hot with his suit on, then he was on fire without the suit.

Jaxon's chest was a masterpiece-broad and sculpted, with muscles that moved like poetry every time he shifted. The kind of body you'd expect on a man who carried the world on his shoulders and still made it look effortless. His abs looked carved, sharp lines leading down to a waistband that teased more than it showed, and a very, very defined V that looked tasty with the trails of dark hair that trailed down into that interesting place-you know what she was talking about.

But it wasn't just the muscles-it was the scars. Thin, faded lines across his side, his shoulder, one near his ribs. Marks that told stories she hadn't heard yet. A tattoo inked along his left rib cage caught her eye-bold and striking, and for some reason, heartbreakingly lonely.

Her fingers twitched. She didn't know if she wanted to trace the lines of the ink or the lines of his body-or maybe both.

And when he looked at her, raising a brow with that annoyingly perfect face and those sinfully dark eyes, she realized her mouth was slightly open. She shut it quickly.

God. She needed help. Or holy water. Or him. Or all three.