Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“Anya.” River drawls out my name, and it’s like silk. Touching me in the softest of places, which only raises my hackles more.
My body is craving for touch. For release.
Fuckhead.
“Lake,” I purr. He opens the car door for me with an arrogant smile playing at his lips.
“Your men aren’t welcome,” he says, nodding to Vance and Clay.
“I don’t go anywhere without security,” I tell him.
“No one will harm you around me, of that I’m sure,” he says matter-of-factly. It’s not that I don’t believe him; it’s just that I don’t entirely trust him. For all I know, this could be a part of his grand scheme to overthrow me. River has balls, but I don’t know if any man is that bold. No one has yet dared try.
“Am I just supposed to take your word on that?” I scoff. “I didn’t agree to no security. I agreed to go on your jobs as some type of fucked-up payment. You understand I run my own jobs as well, right?”
He considers me as I refuse to get in his car, my arms folded over my chest.
A tic in his jaw jumps as he lets out a frustrated breath. “You can follow at a distance but always stay back. My buyers get skittish easily,” he tells them. They look at me for confirmation, and I nod.
“How does it feel?” he asks as I climb into his car, surprised that he has good taste in vehicles. This car is different from the other one I’ve seen him drive. I don’t know cars, but I know the touch and smell of luxury, especially when I’m sitting in it. He waits for me to answer him, leaning into the car.
“How does what feel?” I deadpan. I don’t have time for this fucker’s riddles.
“To have powerful men at your disposal?”
It irks me, the way he says it. Vance and Clay are powerful men, but I don’t take kindly to the tone and mockery he makes of them. Only I’m allowed to objectify them in that way.
“I don’t know, you tell me,” I throw back at him. Does he think it’s any different because I’m a woman? That he doesn’t have men beneath him who do what he says and when. Maybe he’s simply jealous because at least I fuck mine. Did fuck them. Will again. Whatever.
“Touché,” he replies as he shuts the door and walks around the car.
I roll my shoulders back, internally praying this is a quick meeting. If it’s not, I can’t guarantee what I might do on an empty stomach. And with the lack of sleep… well, some might call me a little crazy.
“I bought you something,” River says after closing the door and settling in the white leather seat beside me.
“You shouldn’t have,” I say dryly, and I mean it. I love gifts more than the next, but not from this fucker.
“Open the glove box.”
When I don’t move, he leans over and opens it for me. Inside is a red box. I know its classical branding from anywhere. Cartier. One of my many favorite jewelry designers. I don’t want presents from this man. I am, however, also a woman with little restraint when it comes to shiny things.
When I reach for it, he pulls it closer to himself, so it’s just out of my reach. “Promise me, Anya, that you’ll be good tonight. A deal is still a deal.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “You should be grateful I’m allowing you to make direct deals in my territory. It’s not me who should be on their best behavior, asshole.”
His smile kicks up at the “asshole” as he hands me the box. I snatch it from his hand, taking a second glance at his arrogant smile. The way he grips the steering wheel is too perfect. Too deadly. And I want to kill him for it.
I sigh as I pull the ribbon and reveal a stunning set of earrings and necklace. Paraiba tourmaline. I shift them from side to side, mesmerized. Fuck. I love them.
“Are they to your liking?” he asks.
I’m quick to box them up and place them in my clutch. “Aren’t we supposed to be somewhere, Lake? I want this over before nine. I need my beauty sleep and all,” I say with a sharp smile.
“Most women say thank you.”
“I’m not most women.”
“That you are not,” he says as he starts the car, and we roll down my driveway. I peer through the rearview mirror to make sure my security isn’t far behind.
I play with my black pearl ring, finding far more interest in it than any conversation River might attempt with me.
Surprisingly, he doesn’t say anything either.
Reaching over for the touch screen, I consider in what way I might be able to torture this man.
Alek and I were raised on classical music. The one time the old bitch found me listening to pop, she snapped the record and banned me from shopping with her for a month. It was fucking torture.