1

Bianca

For a moment, I thought we were all going to die. A blood-curdling scream ricocheted throughout the office, and I held my breath, waiting to hear something—anything—to determine its cause.

No gunshot preceded the scream. Not even an argument. It had been quiet minutes earlier except for my fingers tapping across my keyboard.

Someone shouted profanities now—it sounded like my boss—and then a man raced past my desk. His black uniform squeezed his rounded middle, the buttons barely keeping the fabric together as he held his gun awkwardly at his side. My body jolted into action, and I followed the security guard as he raced toward the commotion.

While I briefly thought about running in the opposite direction, my feet pursued the man grunting for breath in front of me.

Lizzie, our accountant, popped her head out of her office when she saw me. “Oh my god, what happened?”

I turned to look over my shoulder as I ran. “I don’t know. But wait here.”

I should have followed my own advice, but I’d never been one to listen. Even to reason. I led with my heart and followed my gut. This was one of those times. However, in hindsight, I should have stayed away. I should’ve never gotten involved.

As soon as we rounded the corner that led directly in front of my boss’s office, the guard stopped.

Oof!

Rubbing my nose after it hit the guard’s fleshy back, I stepped to my right. “What the heck, Dave—” The rest of my admonishment died in my throat, having been struck dumb by the scene in front of me.

Standing behind his desk, wearing a black suit and tie, my boss—one of the richest men in America—held the shriveled, cut-off head of a pig in his hands. Blood dripped between his fingers, pooling inside the cardboard box beneath it. I wondered if that was how it’d been delivered. Did it go through a delivery truck or had someone dropped it off at the mailroom downstairs?

A heave racked through the security guard beside me and he threw his hands over his mouth before running toward a trash can and emptying the contents of his stomach.

Turning back to my boss’s office, I realized that neither his assistant Janis nor his VP, Mr. Walsh, had done anything to help the man. Janis stood with her mouth open, another scream at the edge of her lips, while Mr. Walsh’s pale face and wide eyes stared at the monstrosity in front of him. He probably couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Well, neither could I, but someone needed to do something.

Looking around the room, I spotted a white towel inside a gym bag back in the corner of the office. I grabbed it and the trash can as I approached the desk.

“Here, sir. You can drop it in here.” He looked up and blinked several times before loosening his fingers and letting the mutilated head fall into the black plastic trash can. “That’s good. Take this.” I handed him the towel, and he balled it into his fists before inhaling deeply.

“Janis, have you called the police?” I asked. When she shook her head, I turned to the VP. “Mr. Walsh, can you make that call, please?”

He didn’t move, still staring at his boss rubbing the blood between his knuckles. “Mr. Walsh?” I said louder this time, and he snapped his head toward me. “Dial 9.”

I waited for the words to sink in. It took a minute. “Yes. Yes. Of course.” He pulled out his cell phone and called the cops.

I waved my arms over the desk. “No one touch anything before the police arrive.”

Janis’s eyes grew larger, as though the thought of going near that thing hadn’t even crossed her mind.

Dave swallowed next to me. “What are we supposed to do with it?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea. But once the police get here, I’m sure they’ll tell us what to do.”

He nodded and carefully placed his gun back inside its holster.

A crowd began to form around us. Now that the building wasn’t on fire or under attack, people ventured toward us to see what was happening.

I spotted Lizzie at the back of the crowd and waved her over. “Can you get us some bottles of water from the kitchen? They’ve had quite a shock.”

“What about you?” asked Lizzie. “How are you so calm right now?”

Good question. I’d always been terrible at making decisions, except during a crisis. Then, I had no trouble seeing clearly what needed to be done next. It was a gift, I suppose, and perhaps the reason our CEO, Mr. Towers, added the title, Crisis Manager, last year. When shit hit the fan, I could clean it up faster than anyone else. And often without getting the company’s hands dirty.

I waved her off. “I’m fine.”

The police arrived about fifteen minutes later and I’d gathered Janis, Mr. Walsh, and Mr. Towers into our boardroom. Ten minutes after the police had taped off Mr. Towers’ office, two detectives arrived and were shown into the boardroom. The shorter one with the gray hair walked up to the CEO and extended his hand.

“Mr. Towers, I’m Detective Khan and this is my partner, Detective Choudhury. I understand the package was addressed to you.”

“Yes. It had my name and office address on it.”

“Is there anyone you suspect would want to scare you like this, sir?”

Mr. Towers shrugged. “It could be anyone.” He looked over at me and I cleared my throat.

“Mr. Towers receives malicious threats almost daily and I usually block at least two people a week who try to bombard his social media accounts.”

The taller detective raised his head. “And you are?”

“Bianca Rimoli, sir. I’m Mr. Towers’ Public Relations and Crisis Manager.”

He raised his head after writing something down on his tiny notepad. “Crisis manager?”

I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Is it common to have such a person in an office? I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”

“Yes. Crisis management is part of a public relations strategy. We needed one when Mr. Towers acquired a new social media platform a couple of months ago and people started questioning his motives. There was a lot of bad press, and we needed someone to mitigate the damage.”

“What was the problem?”

My boss grunted. “People are stupid.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes, but barely. This was exactly why Mr. Towers needed me. “There were some who thought Mr. Towers was trying to censor free speech, but that was not the case. The new Grapevine platform is about ensuring that misinformation is not spread and those who falsify documents, videos, or photos using AI will be removed.”

“Seems reasonable to me,” said the detective.

I smiled. That was why I was good at my job. I could make most people see things my way, and those who didn’t just needed a little more finesse than others. “It is reasonable, detective. Some people just don’t want to play by the rules.”

“Do you have a list of those accounts you blocked?”

“I do.”

Mr. Towers ran his hands through his hair. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime? Are you going to have officers stationed here?”

Detective Choudhury crossed his arms. “This investigation is going to take time, sir. The department is thin on resources. If I were you, I’d hire extra security for the office. At least until we’ve figured this out.”

“Are you serious? You’re just going to leave me unprotected?”

“Consider yourself lucky that you have the means to protect yourself. Not everyone has that luxury.”

Mr. Towers slumped in his chair. “I don’t know anyone I can trust. Janis?”

“Yes, Mr. Towers?”

“Look into this, will you? I want someone here by the end of the day.”

“The end of the day!” Janis’s wide eyes pleaded with me, and I nodded once in her direction. “I’ll help you with that, Janis. We’ll do it together.”

She sighed and briefly closed her eyes. “Thank you.”

“We have a few more questions for Mr. Walsh and Mr. Towers, but you don’t need to stick around, Ms. Rimoli.”

“No problem. I’ll get started on that list you requested.”

“Much appreciated.”

Janis followed me out of the boardroom and as we walked toward my office, a police officer approached us. “The building is under lockdown, miss. No one comes in or out.”

“Understood, officer. We’re just going to my office down the hall.” He nodded and moved out of the way.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” said Janis, running her hands through her short black hair. “I don’t feel safe here anymore.”

“Don’t panic, Janis,” I said after reaching my desk. “This is probably some sick joke and the police will find the guy by the end of the week. It will all be over soon.”

Lizzie interrupted any response when she walked in and put her arms around Janis. “Are you okay?”

Janis nodded and pushed down a sob that was stuck in her throat. “Yeah. Just a little shook up.”

“I can’t imagine what that must have been like. You should go home and try to forget this ever happened.”

Janis dropped into the office chair in front of my desk. “I wish I could, but Mr. Towers wants me to find a security detail for him by the end of the day!”

“Wow, that doesn’t give you a lot of time.”

It sure didn’t.

Janis pushed off the chair. “I better get to my desk and start calling some companies.”

“I’m already on it.” I chewed on a hangnail as I read the long list of companies in my search. “There’s a lot to go through and vet. How do we know we can trust any of these companies? It would take weeks to get references and interview them.” I blew out a frustrated breath.

Janis moaned, but Lizzie asked, “What about Jager Payne?”

My body stiffened at the sound of his name. I hadn’t heard it in more than ten years. I was eighteen years old then and cried myself to sleep saying his name over and over again into my wet pillow until exhaustion finally set in.

“Who?” I asked nonchalantly.

“Jager Payne. Your brother’s high school friend. I heard he started a security business after leaving the military. I hear it’s one of the best in the country.”

I used to think that Lizzie dating my brother was a great idea, but I was starting to see the drawbacks. He must have mentioned Jager to her, and now she was suggesting the only man to have ever broken my heart as the person who should protect us.

“I’m sure he’s really busy. And probably not even in the country. I bet he’s gallivanting around the world protecting crown princes or something.”

“No. Your brother spoke to him last weekend.”

My head shot up. “He did?” I blinked. “He never mentioned it to me.”

Lizzie shrugged. “Well, he did, and I think it’s worth calling him.”

My body buzzed from adrenaline and some fight-or-flight response. I did not want to see Jager again. I’d spent too long trying to forget him.

“It’s alright, Lizzie. There are a bunch of other companies nearby with five-star ratings. I’m going to give these guys a try.”

“But you said it yourself that it would take weeks to vet them out.”

I laughed a little too loudly. “Well, you know me. I love a good challenge. I’ll just get on it right away.”

Lizzie tilted her head and raised her eyebrow, but said nothing else. “Fine. But if you change your mind—”

“I won’t.”

Lizzie stood in front of my desk, but I was too busy writing down phone numbers from my search to read if there was anything on her face that found my behavior suspicious. This would be difficult, but I wouldn’t give up so easily. I had seven hours to find someone—anyone—else because I didn’t know what I’d do if I ever saw Jager Payne again.

I called the first number in my notebook. When they weren’t available, I tried the second and the third company. Finally, after hours of moving lower and lower down my list, I found someone who could come in tomorrow. “Thank you, Mr. Jones. I look forward to meeting you.”

Exhausted and nearly defeated, I hung up the phone and dropped my head onto my desk.

Crisis averted.

I could go back to not thinking of Jager Payne ever again.