Jol made the barest of motions, but his presence was such that everyone looked his way. He gave the owners a confident look. “I swear to keep the director safe, sirs.”
He had a deadly expression, as if to show them how stupid anyone would be to fuck with someone Jol had agreed to look after. Tebrok and Sallid seemed impressed, from the looks on their faces. As for Ospar, he had to fight the urge to laugh.
Just what he needed. A posturing Nobek who was probably hoping for an upgrade in pay. Ancestors help him.
Yet he knew his uncles put his safety ahead of profits and the good of Itga itself. They’d shut the whole damned company down if they thought Ospar’s enemies could actually go through with killing him. Their regard was yet another reason he felt so determined to prove himself to them—and what made it so guilt-maddening to consider leaving Itga for political aspirations.
With a mix of exasperation and affection, he conceded. “Fine, my uncles. If it will help you sleep better at night and keep Urt from winning Eruz unfairly, I’ll agree to the bodyguard. But once this contract is won, we re-assess the situation.”
Ospar glared at Jol as he said the last sentence. The man, damn his hide, gazed back with that irritatingly unimpressed stare. Well, Nobek Jol could be as blasé as he wanted. He’d just better remember his place and stay the hell out of Ospar’s way.
No release date set.