It didn't require a degree in psychology for Jacey to deduce the Calcagni clan had been discussing her. She glanced around the room to ensure no one was brandishing weapons in her direction.

"I'm so sorry," Rosa from Human Resources breathed at her side. "I didn't see a meeting on the schedule for this room, and it's the last part of our tour.” She raised her voice to address the Calcagnis. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Sirs." She inclined her head and laid a hand on Jacey’s arm, taking a step back.

"Don't be," Rhys assured. "If you're finished with her paperwork, Rosa, one of us can handle the rest of her tour." He glanced at Luca. "Unless the Board has any objections?"

"Not at all. Thank you, Rosa. Come in, Ms. Maddox." Luca stood. His family mirrored his movements stiffly, as if pulled by marionette strings.

They beheld her like one would a deadly virus. Under a different set of circumstances, she might have found it comical. They would soon discover their disapproval didn't phase her. She possessed a thick layer of skin to insulate her from the emotion, which had been doled out in copious amounts her entire life by her parents, grandparents, school officials, the local police department, television reporters, and countless others not worth remembering.

The bruised cast to Waverly's gaze did affect her, though. It was the biggest reason she wanted to work for Genesis. She witnessed the same deep shadows etched around her own eyes in the mirror each morning, evidence of the incubus who tormented her soul each night. She was simply more skilled than the elder woman at hiding her pain beneath makeup and theatrics. Four years of drama class in high school had helped. So had singing in clubs, but not anymore. The only place she sang these days was from the back pew of the church where no one could hear her.

"I'm looking forward to starting work in the morning, Mr. Calcagni." She graciously inclined her head. "Your job offer was so kind." Now that her atonement had begun, maybe she would find sleep tonight. She was exhausted all the way down to her bone marrow and tottering on her heels.

"My pleasure."

It was anything but. They both knew it.

She shivered at the undercurrent of warning in his tone. Her instincts told her he wasn't envisioning the exchange of niceties over coffee and paperwork. More like roasting her over a spit in some dark corner of the building.

The middle brother held out his hand. "For obvious reasons, we go by first names around here. I'm Rhys. Welcome to the firm, Ms. Maddox."

She shook it. "Thank you. Please call me Jacey."

He nodded gravely and released her hand.

It was the first time they'd ever spoken directly. His impeccable manners didn't extend to his eyes though. They regarded her with the same shrewdness as his older brother, albeit with a little less ice around the edges.

"I'm Knox." The third brother's handshake was painful.

He was the youngest in the family now, a fact that weighed more heavily on her than his iron hand press. It was her largely her fault he no longer had a younger sibling. She wordlessly accepted the black distrust in his gaze, silently endured his attempt to crush her bones, and turned to face his grandparents.

Edric beheld her with a strange mix of suspicion and wistfulness. Instead of shaking her hand, he clasped it between both of his for an extended moment. "You look just like her."

"Who?" She didn't recall reading anything about it in the gossip columns, but maybe the patriarch of Genesis suffered of dementia.

Waverly's fingernails dug in her other hand. "Iona!" She spat out the name as if her mouth couldn't get rid of it fast enough.

Ah. Her own grandmother. The woman at the root of their family feud. Years ago, Iona had dated Edric but at some point had secretly fallen in love with his best friend and business partner, Jenson Maddox. Jacey’s grandfather. Their subsequent marriage had marked the end of a corporate partnership and the beginning of a rival firm.

Though Jacey couldn't be blamed for what had happened before she was born, she had wronged this family deeply of her own accord. It was no wonder everything in their demeanor suggested they wanted her dead or removed to another planet. She'd expected as much and was prepared to fight the long uphill battle toward winning their forgiveness. As much as she wanted to, she knew it would do no good to spell out her true reasons for coming to work for them. It was too soon. They wouldn't believe her. Trust wasn't something a person could buy with a few flowery sentences or any other words for that matter. It was something a person had to earn.

"I'll escort you to the door." Luca ushered her from the boardroom, his serpentine gaze glinting with something she couldn't quite define. Anticipation? Malevolence? Glee?

So her tour was to be cut short. It felt like a bad omen and made her shiver as she glided past him from the room. The sound of her heels clacking down the hallway were amplified by the acoustics of the tin paneled ceiling. It almost sounded like she was running.

Well, maybe she was walking a little faster than necessary. Chagrined at what must have looked like a cowardly dash from the boardroom, she abruptly slowed her steps as she neared the front entrance. It was a mistake. Luca, who must have been silently dogging her heels, nearly plowed into her.

His hands clamped her waist, bringing them both to a halt.

There were no apologies for their near collision, no quick unhanding and backing away. His hold on her was unhurried and deliberate. It also forced her to stand much closer to him than she preferred.

His breath stirred a tendril of hair brushing her cheek, unnerving her a few notches more. "Are you running away from something, Ms. Maddox?"

For a handful of heartbeats, she couldn't think, only feel. The awareness she'd experienced in his office earlier charged between them again, more potent than before. An awareness that held not a single ounce of brotherly or sisterly overtones. It was pure man-to-woman attraction, both unexpected and wildly unsettling.

"Should I be, Mr. Calcagni?" She wanted to recall the question as soon as it escaped her lips, but it was too late.

"Oh yes, Ms. Maddox. You absolutely should be."

She tipped her face up to his, lips compressed in determination. "Why is that?" She gave herself a mental high-five for her coolly detached voice, despite the scorching heat his long fingers were generating at her waistline.

The curl of his lips was more of a sneer than a smile. "You've been away from the design industry too long. No doubt you'll find even the most entry-level tasks at Genesis are way over your head."

His taunting only strengthened her resolve. She raised her chin another inch. "I look forward to proving otherwise."

"Until tomorrow then, Ms. Maddox." He dropped his hands at last, neither stepping back nor releasing her gaze.

Apparently he hadn’t received the memo about using first names. Regardless, her knees felt too weak to extend their staring contest a second longer than necessary. Besides, she’d already accomplished what she’d come for. "Until tomorrow, Mr. Calcagni." It was a wonder her voice didn’t tremble the way her insides were. She pivoted and exited the building without looking back. Or tripping. Or collapsing.

Her shoulders didn’t relax until she rounded the next corner and drew out of sight of Genesis & Sons, Inc. On the short walk to the metro station, she replayed her encounter with the Calcagnis. She weighed each introduction, each handshake, each facial expression. Her conclusion was the tabloids and business rags had been dead wrong on one matter in particular: Luca Calcagni wasn't the only cobra in the building. By coming to work for Genesis, she was climbing into an entire nest of cobras.