Lisa Ann looked at the closed door where Lex had stood.
Lisa Ann smiled. It was a beautiful, terrible thing. “I funded a logistics company. What my clients do with my capital is their business. Your job was to protect my investment, not play crusader.”
“Already did.” He tossed the drive onto the chair. It bounced once, then lay still. “The next hour is your grace period. Run. Hide. Or sit here and wait for the elevator to open. I don’t care.” Lex Vs. Lisa Ann -Evil Angel-
“My job,” Lex said, pushing off the window, “is whatever the hell I decide it is tonight.”
“Lisa,” he said, his voice almost gentle. “You were an evil angel long before I got here. I’m just the guy who finally clipped your wings.” Lisa Ann looked at the closed door where Lex had stood
The neon glare of the “Evil Angel” sign bled through the rain-streaked window of the penthouse suite, painting the room in strokes of sin and shadow. Lex stood with his back to the glass, arms folded, a mountain of quiet fury. Across the marble floor, in a leather chair that cost more than a car, sat Lisa Ann. She wasn't lounging. She was throned.
Inside, Lisa Ann stood alone under the cruel neon light. She didn’t scream. She didn’t cry. She picked up the thumb drive, turned it over in her fingers, and smiled again—this time, smaller, colder. “I funded a logistics company
He stepped into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind him.
“The Miami portfolio was a front for a trafficking ring,” Lex replied, his voice a low rumble. “You knew that. You funded it.”
For the first time, her composure cracked. A flicker. “You wouldn’t.”
“You cost me a lot of money tonight, Lex,” she said, her voice a low, smooth whiskey. She tapped a manicured nail against the tablet in her hand. “The Miami portfolio. Gone.”