Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82094 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I stand next to her and nod. “It’s real.”
“Part of me thought it would be a sculpture but—it’s real. Daddy and Grandpa are both members of the Oak, you know. They never brought me and I guess I understand why now after everything. It probably never occurred to them that I might like it here. That I might be worth bringing.” Her fingers curl for a moment. “I wish they had. This place is gorgeous.”
“If they had brought you before, I wouldn’t get the pleasure of seeing you like this now.” I put my hand on the small of her back and stare into her face, soaking up the wonder in her expression. “Fact is, they wouldn’t have appreciated it like I do.”
She smiles and nods, tilting her head back toward me, and I press my lips against hers. She looks perfect in a navy dress with her hair up, and I want to parade her around the place and show her off, but pulling myself from this kiss right now feels impossible. I let her wrap her arms around my neck and I hold her tight and linger close beneath the massive oak tree. When we finally do break apart, I stare into her eyes.
“We should’ve done this sooner,” I whisper and she laughs.
“You just think I look good in this dress.”
“Damn right I do, filthy girl. You’ll look even better when I get to peel it off you.”
“Don’t tease me right now.”
“There are private rooms, you know.” I kiss the inside of her wrist. “Very private rooms.”
She turns pink and I’m about to lift her up and carry her off to a place where I can do unspeakable things to her body when Lanzo calls out my name. “Quit trying to fuck each other for a second and come over here.” He gestures for me and I reluctantly let Brice go.
Lanzo’s standing with Gareth near the entrance to the bar.
They’re both looking at Lanzo’s phone and frowning at something. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Perry Rowe.” He glances at Brice. “Your father. He’s been caught.”
Brice sucks in a breath and her hands come up to her mouth. “No. Seriously?”
“Seriously,” Gareth says and shows me the article.
“It’s in fucking Russian.” I wave it away. “Translation, please.”
“I told you to learn Russian,” Lanzo says and clears his throat. He reads, “Perry Rowe, member of the Rowe oil dynasty… blah blah blah… caught exiting a private plane at an airport outside of Moscow last night in the early hours of the morning. Moscow police have not released any details, but there is a prisoner swap in the works with the United States… blah blah blah… Extraditing back to his home country to stand trial for fraud among other charges.”
Gareth whistles. “Holy hell. I can’t believe it. I thought that fucker was in the wind.”
“We all did.” I exchange a look with Brice, and I can’t read her emotions right now.
Her father disappeared the day we confronted him at the manor. We figured he was gone for good when it became clear that nobody could find him, and after about a week of searching, Brice and I both decided that he wasn’t worth the stress. Instead, we chose to focus on each other and have been living in a lavish hotel room ever since, exploring each other in ways I never dreamed possible, eating out every night at expensive restaurants, meeting up with her friends and generally being regular people. The real world was going to shove its way into our happy little bubble sooner or later, but at least having these last few weeks crystallized something for me—
This girl is my future.
“You gents can thank me,” Lanzo says and shoves his phone back into his pocket. “I’ve been tracking that wily little fuck for weeks now, and I’ve got to admit, he’s been surprisingly careful. But he slipped up and I pulled some strings to make sure the Russkies decided he was worth more as a bargaining chip.”
I slowly turn to look at Brice. Her mouth is still hanging open and her face is pale, but slowly she gets herself together, pulls in a deep breath, and straightens her spine like she’s drawing herself to her full height. We talked about what we would do if her father ever did surface again and I hope she’s taking that to heart. She knows where she stands with that bastard, and even though he’ll always be her father, she seems ready to move on.
“Good,” she says. “He deserves it.”
“Are you okay?” I ask her softly and steer her toward the bar. “Let’s get you a drink.”
She doesn’t argue with that. I order an expensive bottle of champagne, pour her a glass, and watch her down it in two gulps. Lanzo and Gareth join us and drink their own champagne while quietly discussing the pros and cons of Russian prisons versus the American system, which is morbid but apt.