We step into the lift and Marcus presses the button for the car park.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"I thought we'd have lunch away from the office today," he says. I sip at my drink and smile as sweet and rich hot chocolate fills my mouth.
"Why's that?" I ask after a few moments. Marcus' smile falters and he gulps.
"There are matters I wish to discuss with you and I'd rather not do it in this building."
I gulp, my stomach sinking. "It's about Mr Salt, isn't it?" I whisper. He turns to me, his jaw clenched.
"What gave it away?" he asks softly.
"The way you left the restaurant the other night. I know something in that meeting spooked you. That and the look Mr Salt gave me." I shudder and nearly gag in revulsion. "And now, you want to talk to me outside of the building that Mr Salt runs. It all leads me to one conclusion."
"You're far too observant, Ivy. It's going to get you in trouble one day."
I laugh and the doors ping open.
"I had hoped it would get me a job," I joke. He lets out a low chuckle and we walk through the car park toward his car.
The lights flash as he unlocks it and I climb inside. Marcus gets into the driver's seat and starts the car, the engine roaring to life with a satisfying growl.
"It's a shame really," I sigh, "now I can't afford to get a car like this."
"Do you even drive?" he laughs.
"I'm a fast learner," I say, unable to stop myself from smiling.
"Well, you would have had to wait longer anyway. The job in my department doesn't pay much better than the one you have now."
We race out of the spot and force presses against my body at the sudden speed of the vehicle.
"One day, you'll see. I'll be like you. All mysterious and powerful."
"It's overrated," he mutters.
"Really?" I ask, my voice soft. Marcus' jaw clenches and his brows furrow. He doesn't look at me as he stares at the road ahead.
"Marcus, what's wrong?" I ask. His hands clench around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white.
"I'm sorry you didn't get the job, Ivy. It was out of my control."
"It's okay. There will be more opportunities. I'll just have to work harder next time."
He licks his lips and takes a sharp intake of breath. I know he's thinking about what Mr Salt said and the way he plans on propositioning me for sex so I can progress my career. But Marcus doesn't know that I know that.
"I'm going to say this once, Ivy. You should get out of this career. Leave the MOD and the restaurant, and never look back."
"What? Why?"
"You're a brilliant and bright woman. I would hate for you to be..." he trails off and sighs. "There are people in this industry, powerful people, who will wear you down until you break. Until you've lost all your spark and you're nothing but a shell who never feels truly safe again. Can you live the rest of your life knowing that everyone around you is scheming and clawing for power and knowing there is nothing you can do about it? There is nothing to stop the corruption because the worst of us are not only being protected, but they're getting richer and more powerful by the day."
"Marcus," I whisper and gulp.
He smiles softly and nods his head. "I know. You're not going to."
"I'm not," I say. "This is what I want to do. This is what I spent years at university training for. I'm built for this and I am stronger than I look."
His smile widens a little bit.
"Very well. You have made your choice and I'll accept that.
"Thank you," I reply and lean back in the seat, looking out of the window at the city around me.
"Mr Salt stopped me from getting the job, didn't he?" I ask.
"He did," Marcus replies. I nod my head. "How did you know?"
The recording I took of you two discussing it.
"The second he gave me that cruel, knowing smile, I knew that I didn't have the job," I tell him. "I know what that man is. I play into it. I flirt. I brought this all on myself just so I'd get better tips." My lips tremble and I swallow back my tears.
"None of this is your fault, Ivy," he tells me sternly. "Mr Salt is a nasty bit of work, and this is not the first time pulled a stunt like this. He's a known predator but is so well protected, that it is near impossible to be rid of him," Marcus seethes.
I clear my throat, making sure I don't cry.
"Well, maybe, one day I'll get to the right place where I can get rid of men like him."
"If anyone can do it, you can," Marcus chuckles. I smile, warmth filling me.
"He's going to come after you now," Marcus says, his voice serious. "He knows you'll be disappointed in failing to get the job and he'll try and exploit that. He'll use promotions and opportunities to try and coerce you into sex. If that doesn't work, he'll use fear instead."
I don't reply. I don't even know what to say.
"I'm going to try and protect you to the best of my abilities," he promises. "I will be attending the next few meetings at the restaurant, which he has arranged for the days you're working."
"Of course he has," I say, rolling my eyes. "But thank you, I appreciate it."
"For now, that is the only place he can get to you. The MOD is too well-guarded. With cameras and paper trails and excellent cyber security, he can't get to you through there. Your phone number, address and the likes are safe and he doesn't dare try and contact you through company communications. He certainly won't show his face in the part of the building you work in. Not to be rude, but it is too low level for the head of the MOD to have any explainable interest in."
"This is crazy," I say.
"It is," he agrees. "But we have time to figure this out."
"Figure what out?" I ask.
"How we're going to progress your career without Mr Salt getting in the way, of course," he says and winks at me.
I smile widely and feel heat build in my cheeks. Quickly, I look away from Marcus and back out of the window, watching as we pull into another underground car park.
As Marcus parks the car, we stay silent. Once the engine is off, we both get out and walk towards the escalators.
"That was quite a scene you made earlier," I say as Marcus gestures for me to go ahead. He laughs and I turn to face him as he gets onto the step below me.
"Whatever are you talking about, Miss Astor?" he asks charmingly.
"You know exactly what I'm talking about," I scold. "Back at the office."
He bites back a smile, and for a second, I'm lost in his beautiful features. I gulp, my heart thumping in my chest.
Before he notices my expression, I turn to walk off of the conveyor belt as we reach the top. My eyes widen as we walk out into a huge, very fancy-looking square. Ivory coloured, stone tiles make up pathways that surround huge patches of rich green grass.
"Wow," I say, looking at all the water fountains and the perfect, symmetrical flower beds full of flowers of almost every colour.
The whole square is surrounded by gleaming skyscrapers. I look up at them as they tower above us. I wonder if my realm will have buildings like this one day. Would it be in my lifetime?
On the ground floors of most of the skyscrapers, are various restaurants. Each of them spills out into the courtyard with their individually designed seating areas. My stomach growls as the smell of food hits me. It comes from all the quirky food stalls sitting in different places in the parks.
"What do you fancy?" Marcus asks amusement in his voice.
For a second, I don't answer. All I can do is stare at all the people, some sat in the outdoor areas of the restaurant, and others sitting on the grass, soaking up the sun and enjoying street food. Children play in fountains, their delighted screams filling the air.
"Where do you recommend?" I ask.
"This way," Marcus says, and we walk together toward one of the restaurants.
Almost everyone here, except for the families enjoying the parks, wears business attire. I suspect, most of them have come down from all the various offices in the skyscrapers. Thankfully, with my smart, cream pencil skirt and its matching fitted blazer, left open to show off the silky white blouse I wear beneath, I fit right in. In fact, I am tamely dressed compared to some of these women.
I can't help but smile as I see the variety of dramatic business attire they wear, from beautiful long coats, paired with dramatic hats, to vibrant red trouser suits or fitted dresses. It becomes apparent quickly that this is a place filled with people who have money.
Marcus opens the door for me and I smile up at him. My white stilettos click on the glossy wooden floor.
Immediately, a waitress wearing a tie and waistcoat greets us.
"Table for two, please," Marcus says, smiling charmingly. I can barely focus. All I can do is stare at the diamond chandeliers and the marble bar.
We follow her to a table, which is in a section near the windows.
"You still haven't responded," I say as I sit down.
"To what?" he asks, grinning.
I roll my eyes. "The office? Sweeping in there all dramatically with drinks in hand. You know they're going to be talking about that for the next two weeks, right?" I ask. He laughs.
"You may have noticed, that I take myself very seriously," he begins, and I raise an eyebrow. "But sometimes, there is a small part of me that wants to piss people off. Serena doesn't deserve that job. She didn't work for it. She didn't earn it."
"So, you're just using me to rain on her parade?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. He laughs.
"A little," he admits.
"That's not very professional," I respond.
He laughs. "Perhaps not. But it felt good."
I laugh and lean back in my chair. "You know, on my first day at the MOD, I was warned to stay away from you. You're dangerous."
"Oh I am," he replies, smiling confidently. It sends shivers down my spine, especially when that video of him killing all those guards in the lab fills my mind once more. "I've done many things you would find heinous, Ivy." His voice is serious. "I was a military man before my career change."
"What did you do in the military?" I ask, slightly nervous.
"I'm the man they sent in to discreetly sort out problems."
"Is that why you told me that you're not someone I should care about?" I ask.
He looks me in the eyes and leans forward. "Yes," he says, "I am a killer, Ivy."
So am I.
"I have enemies."
So do I.
I gulp but don't look away from him. "You warned me to stay away," I whisper, "yet you still invited me out to lunch. This is more than just warning me about Mr Salt."
He smirks, the look dangerous. The way he holds me in his cold stare makes my heart almost stop.
"Yes, I warned you. Yet here you are anyway."
"Here I am," I reply, not breaking his stare.
"Why?" he asks.
"Because I'm not one to heed warnings," I reply and smile confidently. "The more I shouldn't do something, the more I want it."
He smirks and leans back in his chair.
"And what exactly is it you want, Ivy?" he asks.
"I want to be strong. I want to be formidable. I want to be the woman who men like Gareth Salt are terrified of and women like Serena wish they could be."
He raises an eyebrow and I take a sip of my water. Once I'm done, I smile softly. "I may not be some dangerous, ex-soldier like you, Marcus. But I am strong in my own right, and I am exactly where I want to be."
"Excellent," he says. Then looks up as a waitress comes to take our order. I realise then that I haven't looked at the menu. I quickly skim through it and pick a dish that sounds somewhat interesting.
Once she's gone, I look back at Marcus.
"So, what now?" I ask.
"Now, we enjoy our break away from work," he says.
"Okay," I reply.
We quickly fall into easy conversation, talking about our hobbies, and telling funny stories about our lives. Guilt bites at me, making my stomach churn and the delicious food taste sour in my mouth. The stories I tell him about my embarrassing moments in school, or with my family are all made up. They are a part of my cover.
"Thank you," I say as we walk back to the car. "You didn't have to pay."
"I invited you out for lunch Ivy, and chose an expensive place. It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to make you foot the bill."
I laugh. "Well, I appreciate it. Though maybe I should pay next time."
"Next time?" he asks. I bite back my smile and don't reply.
Giddy excitement rushes through my veins, making me almost tingle. That feeling doesn't leave once Marcus and I part ways at the office. In fact, the smile doesn't leave my face for the rest of the day.
It isn't until I get home that I remember why I'm here and that one day, I'm going to be ordered to put a bullet in Marcus' chest.
I gulp, swallowing a lump in my throat. I try not to let tears form in my eyes as I imagine pulling the trigger and ending his life.
I lean on my kitchen counter and let out a long, shaking breath, shaking my head.
"I am so fucked."