"What do I do, Jet?" Meredith whispered, eyeing the heavy oak door warily.

Jet rubbed his eyes, trying to ease the niggling throb, the beginning of a massive headache. "Just follow my lead, Meredith." He half-groaned between his fingers. His stomach rolled in agitated knots and he was grateful he hadn't eaten yet.

"Jet, I have no idea what I'm doing." Meredith's voice trembled with a hint of fear. He dropped his own trembling hand and grasped hers tightly, causing her to gasp. His heart pounded, with terror or excitement, he wasn't sure, as he brought his other hand to caress her soft cheek.

"Everything is going to be alright, Mer." He assured, wishing the words could have the same calming affect on him. "I will handle the business arrangement, and you can be our scribe. Can you do that?" His blue eyes held hers in a steady gaze.

Meredith guffawed, but grinned playfully at his chide. "Yes, I'm pretty sure I can handle that."

Jet's throat felt excessively dry as he continued. "These men are fierce and professional. Don't let that trigger you."

She faintly inclined her head in submission, but Jet felt worry ease into his heart. He wouldn't be able to stand it if she had an episode in the middle of a meeting-this meeting-because it would surely rip his heart out. She'd come so far, and this meeting was too important, for anything to go south.

His hand trembled slightly where it rested on her face. He grasped her firmly, resolve set, and tipped her chin upward, bringing his lips to hers. His mouth felt like fire as it moved surely over hers, and he felt her tension melt away as he wrapped his arms around her.

His core flared with a desperate need, but he stuffed it down begrudgingly. He needed her to be alert and focused, and his kiss seemed to be doing just that.

"Better?" He murmured huskily against her lips. She flushed and nodded; lips still parted. "Good."

Jet pulled away brusquely and checked his watch. "Time to go in."

His heart pounded with premonition as he opened the heavy door and motioned for Meredith to enter. She straightened her back, hardly pausing as her doe eyes took in the intimidating stance of the men already stationed around the large conference table. Jet noted with pride that she didn't falter once in attitude and demeanor as she took each of their hands in turn before settling into her own chair.

Jet cleared his throat and began introductions. "This is my assistant, Meredith Sparks." He inwardly cringed for letting her last name slip. Based on their reputations, these weren't the sort of men you introduced your potential romantic interest to, but he hadn't the option not to.

"This is Anthony Donnell. You spoke with him on the phone." Jet gestured to a blonde, sharply angled man sitting across from Meredith. "Next to him is Uriah Steele, who oversees their legal handlings," Jet forced emphasis on the last word. It was clear to him that all the hype following this criminal posse must have been true, as Steele was the head lawyer for the corporation. "Of course, this is Mr. Joe Moretti himself." His hand lingered in gesture in front of a dark, hawk eyed man with gelled back hair. "And to his right is one of their bodyguards, to whom I've yet to be introduced."

The man grunted and taped on his earpiece but made no effort to provide his name. Meredith was stilled in a pose that Jet knew to be her flight response. He also knew it was taking every fiber of her being to remain in that room with such cold looking individuals.

"Mr. Bianchi." A cold, serpentine voice issued from the seat at the head of the table. "Nice of you to join us. I take it you and your...secretary..." There was pause as the owner of the voice cast a disdainful look over Meredith. "Had no issues finding us?"

Anger boiled in the pit of Jet's abdomen at the tone. "No, Sir, we found it alright." He took his place next to Meredith, hoping the gesture insinuated an air of protectiveness, and met the gentlemen's probing gaze evenly. "Shall we begin?"

He trained his eyes on Meredith and she jumped slightly, hastily grasping the file in front of her. The pen she picked up quaked in her slim fingers as she pressed it to the blank paper, eyes wide with emotion.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" Jet began coolly, pulling the lapels of his jacket straight.

"Mr. Bianchi." Moretti's voice oozed out like venom, sending a chill down Jet's spine. "We would like for you to help us become more profitable." Joe stood and pushed a stack of files toward Jet with a calloused, ring laded hand. Jet noticed the dark stains under his fingernails and swallowed the bile that rose in his throat.

"I can assure you, Mr. Moretti, that my firm is more than capable of doing such." Jet supplied with forced ease, determined not to give in to the urge to vomit. "Perhaps you could walk me through which areas you believe need pruning?" He deftly grasped the top file and flipped it open. He didn't look at it immediately but fixed his challenging stare right into the black eyes gazing mercilessly back at him.

"Everything can be tweaked, Bianchi, if you have the will and the means." Moretti offered in response, gaze growing increasingly colder. "I have the means."

"I have no doubt." Jet agreed, more to appease the current audience than to be in accord.

"Give the files a glance. Then let me know what you think." Joe's grin stretched sardonically across his scarred face. "I have the room reserved for a long while. Get comfortable."

Jet gulped and drew the file closer. The words on the page blurred and he focused his vision in, breathing in deeply. Meredith, he noticed, was scribbling furiously in the ledger, no doubt taking down everything that was being said.

The files were very organized, Jet observed as he flicked through them slowly. There were names of every collaborating agency and company listed in alphabetical order, and tabs for invoices on each ranging from electrical expenses to the janitorial salary. There were files upon files of business partners and the employees entrusted to handle agreements between Moretti and Steele. Several inconsistencies popped out at him like warning shots and his eyes widened in shock.

Amongst the files were receipts for evident buy-outs and payoffs to lesser quality individuals, presumably those found in black market agencies and underground societies. Many seemed to be employed by clean corporations, in some sort of double agent fashion. A whole file was dedicated to Moretti's offshore accounts, and a whole stack dedicated to the receipt and relinquishment of funds to and from what Jet assumed were mobs or cartels.

Everything about Moretti was dripping in corruption, deceit and violence.

His whole body grew stiff with fear and he jerked his head up sharply, eyes meeting the black beetle like ones. He could almost smell the greed and corruption in the air.

"No." He blurted without thinking. "I cannot do that."

His initial denial was met with a low chortle and a flash of silver. The bodyguard had shifted his suit jacket enough for the stock of his pistol to show.

"Mr. Bianchi." Moretti began, tapping his fingers on the table with a soft patter. "I believe you will do this for us."

He shoved a stack of pictures toward Jet, which he hastily gathered out of Meredith's sight.

Glancing down, his heart plummeted to the bottom of his chest. They were polaroids of him and Meredith at various points in their working relationship.

One from her initial interview, showing him with a curious grin as she walked out of the office, looking like she was going to hurl. Another from several months in, when she got comfortable enough to even sit near him. They were laughing at one of their inside jokes, her smile eased and free, his longing and loving. More were taken recently, of them kissing outside the club, embracing outside his parent's restaurant, him glaring jealous daggers at anyone near her when they'd played pool. There was even an inexplicable one of Meredith laughing in what he assumed was a clothing store, but for the life of him he hadn't a clue what that one was about.

"What the fuck?" Jet whispered, angling the photos so Meredith couldn't see. Her eyes clouded in confusion and she searched his eyes probingly.

"You will do this for us." Moretti continued, taking a long drink from a high ball. "I'm sure you don't have to guess what will happen if you don't."

Jet's voice came out so frigid it could freeze hell over. "You won't lay a hand on her."

Moretti chuckled sadistically. "I will, if you don't comply."

Jet couldn't bring himself to look at Meredith. He didn't want her in any more danger than she already was. "How did you know?" He asked, hoping he sounded calmer than the rage that burned through his core.

"We have many people on our roster, Jet." Moretti hissed, leaning over the table, face screwed into an ugly glare. "You have no footing to be asking us any questions." He grabbed Jet's shoulder forcefully. "Do we make ourselves clear?"

Jet felt an almighty defeat suck the air right out of his lungs. "Yes." He gasped, murderously staring down Moretti as he pried the vice like fingers from his arm. "Now let us take our leave."

"We will be following up." Moretti threatened, evil eyes like daggers in Jet's back as he stood to depart. He grabbed Meredith roughly and practically shoved her out of the room, purposefully not giving Joe the satisfaction of looking back.

"We will know if you don't follow through." The sickly, deadly threat lingered behind him as he slammed the door. He sunk into the wall, breathing heavily, legs barely holding him up.

"What was that?" Meredith whispered shakily, files trembling in her hands.

Jet didn't respond right away. He didn't want to frighten her, but at the same time he had no idea how to protect her from what was unfolding around them.

"Jet?" She prompted, eyes wide with confusion.

"Meredith, listen to me." He began, formulating a plan that he hoped would keep her out of harm's way. "They're criminals and they're going to blackmail me by threatening people I care about."

"Like your parents?" Meredith inquired; features contorted with blossoming fear.

"No." Jet shook his head, black locks falling haphazardly into his eyes. "A romantic interest." He said coldly, tearing his gaze from her pleading eyes.

"Who?" Her voice was tinged with surprise and she balked.

"Just...just please, do whatever I ask of you. You will be safe; they don't want anything to do with you. It's all about me."

"Am I in danger?" Her voice trembled, but Jet held up a hand to cut her off.

"No. It isn't you." He gritted through clenched teeth, lying his ass off. She couldn't know the danger she was in, or he wouldn't be able to come up with a plan to both keep her safe and defy Moretti's wishes. The farther from the danger she was, the better. He just hoped she didn't hate him at the end of it all.

The sad look she gave him nearly broke his heart. "Okay."

"Meredith I really do like you." Jet's voice cracked with tumultuous emotion.

"Save it." She whispered, tears edging from the corners of her eyes. "It was too good to be true anyway."

Her voice wavered and he threw out a hand to stop her as she made to move past him. "You are still very important to me."

"I'm sure." She cried, brushing his arm aside. "Don't worry, Jet. I will be your faithful, trusting, naïve secretary through it all."

The firm, resolute tone pierced his heart in a way he didn't know was possible. As she stalked off a lone tear dropped down his own cheek, leaving a wet trail through his stubble.

"I love you." His voice didn't reach her as she rounded the corner of the hall. She never heard it.

**Ok guys vote and comment. What do you think is going to happen? Give me feedback. I wasn't sure about this plot twist but I think it needed more than what was already going on to help Meredith develop as a character.**