Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Enamored. A word I barely understand. “You’d better hope not.”
“Is she working for you, Justice?” she presses, eyes sharp.
“None of your business,” I answer.
Her smile is sly. “Well, if she works for you, she can work for me.”
“I don’t think she wants to work for you,” I say evenly. “But I’ll pose the question.”
Mathias glares. “Justice, have you kidnapped Ella?” His voice rasps, stabbing pain back into my knees.
“Yes.”
Mathias fidgets with his thick, gnarly hands. “She’s dating Wesley Whisper from my company. If you kidnapped her, we should discuss it.”
“Wesley can get in contact with her if he wishes,” I say flatly. “They’re no longer dating.”
“Does he know that?” Alexei asks. His voice stays smooth, expression unreadable, the mask firmly in place. Controlled.
Is he amused? “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” I focus back on him. “We’ve already had one high-society wedding. When is yours, Alexei?”
He doesn’t pale, but he doesn’t answer.
“Alexei,” Sylveria says, her tone rough and bruising, “are you marrying Rosalie?”
Mathias leans forward, his brows rising.
For two of the most dangerous people on the planet, they sure like to gossip.
“If I do,” Alexei says, glancing at his watch, “you’ll be the first invited.” He stands, graceful and calm, his chair sliding back on marble. His voice is steady, clean, giving me a brief reprieve. “It’s been a pleasure.” He strides out with his two men falling in behind him, precise and sharp.
Mathias rises next, patting his belly. “I really like Wesley. He does a good job for us. At least let him call Ella.”
“Absolutely,” I say. I couldn’t care less what Wesley Whisper wants.
Mathias nods once, then strides out with his guards.
That leaves me with Sylveria and her daughters.
“Sit,” Sylveria orders. Her rough tone presses into me, heavy in my kidneys.
Stacia takes Mathias’s vacated chair, the scrape of metal against marble loud in the echoing space. Corinda joins her, folding her hands neatly on the table. Both young women are poised, calm, and watching me.
Corinda smiles, looking so much like her mother it’s unsettling. Younger, beautiful, a sharper version of the same face. Blonde hair, blue eyes, lovely bone structure. She’s the face of TimeGem Moments, and she seems to do a good job hitting parties and events. I think she has a few million followers and is an expert in makeup, movie lines, and the best cocktails. “Mother says you need a bride.”
“Do I?” I ask.
Stacia flips her dark hair back, eyes sparkling. “Yes. Mother would like to auction us off as cattle. I’m not on board.”
I like her. She’s spunky. “I understand,” I say. “But I’m not in the market.”
Corinda leans forward, perfume light. “I’ve never looked for happily-ever-after. I’ve always thought a good business arrangement works for marriage. If you think about it, most arranged marriages last, whereas the silly love ones don’t.”
She’s flawless in a white suit, makeup pristine. Pink lips, thick lashes, perfect nose. She’d be appealing to most. But right now, a little brat half my size holds my attention, and I don’t see that changing.
“Would you stop trying to become the match of the century?” Stacia cuts in, her voice becoming irritating but not painful. “Alana already took that spot.”
“Not if I can help it,” Corinda says, her soft tone calming the room. She fixes her gaze on me. “What do you say?”
If I wanted a spouse who threw the best parties and knew the best people, she’d be perfect. Unfortunately, I don’t care about either of those things. “I’m going to have to decline.” I look at Sylveria. “Now that we’re alone, I might as well tell you. Ella is coming for her company.”
Sylveria’s voice bruises me deeper when she rises. “You’ll reconsider that since the company is mine. Not Ella’s. My husband left it to me, and that’s the end of it. Our servers run on diamonds.”
But they were created to run on citrines. How easy is that to change? It’s rare, that’s for sure. I push back from the table, turning to Stacia. “You’re delightful, and I hope you marry for love.” My gaze shifts to Corinda. “I understand your motivation and agree that most arranged marriages do work. I hope you find the person you’re looking for, but it’s not me.”
“We’ll see,” Corinda answers, her smile sweet and sharp.
I glance at Sylveria. She adjusts her ball gown, glittering even here amid the steel and marble. Somehow, she still manages to look regal. I don’t want to hurt her, but I will if necessary, so I give her one more warning. “Leave Ella alone. I don’t want a war, but I’m ready.” I stand and head outside, shutting the door behind me. My men move with me, two stationed close, watching my back. One of my black town cars speeds toward us, and I tense.
Wynd jumps out, his blue eyes wild and his tone low. “Ella and the dog are gone.”