Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
I lick my lips. “Why would a man who has everything Rayo Revenaw does entertain the idea of giving his overachieving heir to the son of a dude who makes his fortune off fucking over and enslaving immigrants?” I throw the question out there, not foolish enough to believe I’m the only one who knows about her little red dress dinner date with this punk, waiting to see how he chooses to respond.
Sliding my eyes his way, I catch the slight dip of his brows and then the slow rise of them that follows.
“You have a theory,” he says more to himself before standing tall and slipping in front of me, expression straight business all of a sudden. “You have a theory,” he repeats himself, this time sure.
Good. Not a complete waste of muscles.
Rocklin starts to fidget, her restraint running out, the need to know who I’m talking to officially winning out, and finally, my girl peeks over her shoulder.
Our eyes lock and she sucks in a breath, yet her muscles seem to settle, even if she does keep her perfect little posture.
She’s so fucking gorgeous, so damn beautiful, my ribs grow tight. It’s unreal, what the sight of this girl does to me, and I know it’s the same for her. It’s written in her big green eyes and the blanket of softness that falls over her when I’m within range.
I feel no logic when it comes to this girl, just a pull deep on the inside that tells me she’s it.
She’s what I’ve been blindly searching for and she knows it.
“Tell me what it is.” Damiano regains my attention. “Your theory.”
“That sounds a lot like a demand.” I move my eyes his way. “I don’t answer to you, and I don’t share a working theory that might not mean shit. If I’m wrong, you’d call me a fool. If I told you what I’m thinking, you’d definitely call me crazy.”
“I think they have something on Mr. Revenaw,” he speaks in a rush. “I’ve been quietly looking into it, but so far, I haven’t found a link. The Henshaw family, they offer … services that leave them with many secrets.”
I simply stare at him.
His frustration doubles. “I just want to make sure she’s safe.”
“That ain’t your job no more, pretty boy.”
He grinds his jaw, stretching his shoulders out wide, not realizing he had already pulled that move tonight. It has the same effect as it did the first time—none.
Still, he keeps on rolling. “Despite what you claim, you won’t always be around, and there might be a million reasons why that is, but it’s a simple fact. Why not have someone else she trusts in the loop, so I can be there for her if she needs it?”
“What makes you think I want you anywhere near her?” What makes him think I don’t already have someone doing exactly what he’s suggesting?
“My point is, I am near her. I live in the same home she does. I go to the same school she goes to. Chances are, if you aren’t there, I am.”
My blood heats, his words as irritating as they are true. “None of that means a damn thing to me. I don’t trust a blond hair on your head.”
“I need to know what’s going on if it involves the girls,” he snaps, face heating as he pisses himself off more and more with each attempt to get in my head. “Part of my role is to help lead security at the Greyson Manor, Greyson Elite, and at The Enterprise.”
A low whistle leaves me, and the implication isn’t missed.
Boy’s doing a piss-poor job at that. I got into all three.
“I can only do so much,” he forces past clenched teeth. “I’m not in the security room, simply the one they call when they find something.”
“So it was your call to send Kylo after me that day?” The day we took him straight off their property.
His lips smash together, but after a moment, he sighs. “Look, I know we aren’t exactly … fuck,” he mutters, then stands straight, stepping back a little to allow a blonde to slip between us.
The wrong blonde.
Damiano slides his hands in his pockets and nods his chin toward the uninvited incomer. “Bass Bishop, meet Boston Revenaw.”
Rocklin’s twin sister smirks, playing coy and sucking at it. “Are you going to ask me to dance, Mr. Bishop?”
“I’m no mister, and you’re trouble. She’s got problems with you, so no. I’m not.” I shrug. “Not that I would have either way.”
Boston stares, and then a wide smile spreads. “Oh man, this is going to be so good. You’re right, she is mad at me, but it’s surface level. I’m blood.”
“Blood means nothing.”
“She knows where I stand at the end of the day.”
“Words mean nothing.”
Boston’s smile is slow, and she nods. “You’re right, Bass. They don’t. I look forward to you changing your mind about me, and while I understand, maybe even appreciate, your decision to be loyal to my sister, I was simply attempting to smooth this over for you to help avoid the inevitable, but now I retract my invitation.” She looks to Damiano, raising a brow.