“What do you mean, you signed a contract?” Miles stared at Tess from the other side of the table, disbelief narrowing his eyes.
“Not a contract,” she rasped. “A nondisclosure agreement. I’m not allowed to talk about Mr. Feeney’s affairs to anyone, not even my own family.” Tess’s face blanched a little, her eyes widening as she felt the magic curling fingers around her vocal cords from within. “I’m not even allowed to mention his name,” she whispered.
Miles drew back in horror, watching strange hands writhe beneath her skin as clenching fingers reached, wrapped, began to tighten and suffocate her. “What is wrong with you?”
Shaking off the hands, she reached up to soothe her throat with gentle fingers and said, “Twenty-seven million dollars, Miles. That’s what’s wrong with me. If I can keep my mouth shut until the old man dies, I’ll never have to work again.”
Head drifting thoughtfully back and forth, he drew in breath through his nose, both nostrils flaring. Tess had always been a fool, just like she’d always been a gossip. His sister would be dead long before Mr. Feeney. Rumor said the man was going to live forever, and judging from the grasping hands beneath Tess’s skin, Miles believed it. He was a sorcerer of some kind, and everyone knew sorcerers were not to be trusted.
“You’re an idiot, Tessa. An absolute idiot.”
“And you’re jealous,” she smirked. “You’ve always been jealous of me, but I can do this. You’ll see! And when I’m rolling in money I’ll make you eat those words.”
“Yeah,” he started to back away. “We’ll see.”