Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 107166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
My rise to power wasn’t fast. It was a carefully played chess game, all for one objective. That’s what the trip down South is for. The final play. The last move. This brings me back to Skye and her role in Felix’s life.
Is it more than what she has implied? I find the very notion of it disturbing. Does she not realize the type of monster Felix is?
A part of me has a desire to let her in on the information I possess. That way, she can make a decision. Another part of me—the irrational part—wants to hide her away. That option isn’t on the table, and I need to decide whether I can use Skye in a way that would be beneficial to me, or if in the end, she is more of a liability.
Pulling out my phone, I fire off a text to her.
Me: What are you doing?
Skye: Working.
Me: On what?
Skye: So now I need the babysitter? I thought that was my job.
Me: Your job is to do what I say.
Skye: Yeah. . . No.
Me: Is working from home too hard. Do you need supervision?
Skye: I’m not a naive intern you can boss around, and the diploma hanging on my wall isn’t an accessory. I know how to do my job.
She sounds angry. The sick part of me wishes I were at her apartment to see what she looks like as she texts me.
Is her face red? Her fingers moving at lightning speed? Her chest heaving with anger?
Fuccckkk.
It’s a visual my dick likes, and that’s enough to sober me. I place my phone down before my fixation gets out of hand and glance up at Gideon, whose eyes follow me too closely for comfort.
Flicking lint off my sleeve, I go for a casual. “I want her followed.”
“On it, boss.” He grins. Fucker.
“Stop calling me boss,” I respond to Gideon.
The man shakes his head at me. “Until you hand over the keys to the castle, it’s still your reign.”
“A soon-to-be broken reign.”
The truth of those words has us both sitting in silence for a minute, and then I stand. We have a lot to plan. First, when the meeting down South will take place, and then I need to go to Cyrus’s. I made him a promise, after all.
“I want every piece of information about her that we haven’t already gathered. I want to know where she sleeps and who she spends her free time with. I want to know every minute of the day when she’s not with me. I want to know everything.”
“I’ll get a few men to trail her. I’ll also pull phone records. Should I speak to Jax and get eyes in her apartment?”
“No.” I might not be a good man, but that was where I drew the line. “We already have Jax on this getting the info, no need to put the cameras up yet. She hasn’t done anything to warrant that. She’s my attorney right now, but if anything key happens, call him and get eyes on her phone and house. Got it?”
“Got it.” He leans back in his chair. “Where are you off to?” he asks as I stand from my chair.
“Card game.”
“Cyrus’s?”
“Yep.”
“Any chance I can get an invite to one of these illustrious games?”
“One day, but not this one. This one is still private.”
The game Cyrus holds once a month is solely for us. Cyrus’s best clients and, dare I say, friends. It’s not often we are all around. Once a month is pushing it, but most of us make it work whenever possible. It’s gotten harder over the years—wives and families do that. But most of the time, we are all in attendance.
“Have fun. Don’t lose any of your money, or you won’t be able to retire,” Gideon jokes.
“Would that be so bad?”
His expression stills and grows more serious. “Nope,” he answers truthfully, but that ship has sailed.
“Don’t worry, man. I’m out. As soon as I kill the son of a bitch, I’m gone.”
“And the lady?”
“Let me worry about that. You worry about getting me the info I need.”
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Trent says as I enter the room. “And here I thought we would never see you again.”
“You still handle my money, dipshit. You’re stuck with me. Well, unless . . .”
“Unless what?” His brow raises.
My lips tip up into a smirk.
“You think you can kill me?” he asks, and I shrug. Trent laughs at that.
“You two are ridiculous.” Cyrus scoffs as he walks in from the opposite door.
This is the only place I can show my real personality and let loose a little. Here, we are not our titles. We are not the men who run the underworld. Here, we can relax and drop our façades. Despite this, I do refrain from showing them too much. I trust these men with my lives, but you never can tell.