Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I know what he’s doing. The enormous smirk on his dumb, smug face says he knows it too. This bastard is trying to embarrass me—no, worse than that, he’s trying to claim me for his own, and he wants me to be happy about it.
I can already see how this is going to go.
Nolan’s going to stick his face in every one of our decisions. He’s going to make a nuisance of himself, all because he thinks it’s fun to needle me.
Then, one day, he’ll get bored and drift away, but it’ll be too late. The business will stall, fail, break down, all because I’ll be too busy paying attention to him instead of making great donuts.
“Absolutely not,” I say, shaking my head really slow.
Jams groans. “Keely, please—”
“No,” I say sharply, cutting her off. “He’s going to do this constantly. Bully us into following his stupid orders. If we let him in now, we’re screwed.”
“If he cashes those checks and kicks us out, we’re also screwed,” Jamila argues, gesturing at him. “I don’t want this guy involved in our business any more than you do, but he’s offering money, and we need money. Let’s make a deal with the devil, okay?”
“I’m right here,” he murmurs. “I don’t see myself as a devil, exactly.”
“You’re more like a slimy alligator.” I shake my head, turning my back on him. “Go ahead and shut us down, Nolan. If you want to ruin my dream, be my guest. I can’t stop you. But I will despise you even more than I already do.”
I walk to the back door. Jams looks from him to me and back again, not sure what to do, but she eventually follows. Before I can get away, Nolan calls out.
“Think about it,” he says. “I’ll be back in a few days to check again. In the meantime, I’ll leave you with this piece of advice. If someone with means wants to give you money, you should always take it. That’s just good business.”
“Thanks, asshole, but I’d rather take advice from a poisonous frog than from you.” I slam the back door in his face. Jamila sighs, closing her eyes and raiding her chin to the ceiling. “I’d rather kiss the damn frog and die than let him into my business.”
“Seems like you already did,” Jams mutters.
Chapter 7
Nolan
I’m in a good mood as I park my car at the Crowley family mansion. Even though I hate this place and wish I were anywhere else, I can’t stop but smiling to myself.
I keep picturing beautiful Keely’s face in the moment she turned me down.
What a defiance. Beautiful, stubborn defiance.
I’m going to ruin her life.
I won’t enjoy it, but if she won’t give me what I want—I’ll have to do it.
I’m whistling as I head in through the side entrance. A staff member greets me and leads the way to Carson’s study, formerly Dad’s study. The place has a thick haze of cigar smoke when I step inside. My brother’s behind the desk, puffing away, looking as stressed and anxious as Dad always looked. Except where Dad scared the hell out of me, Carson only makes me happy I’m not the oldest.
“You’re late,” he grumbles, annoyed. “Mother was asking after you.”
“I’ll go visit her shortly.” I pour myself a drink from the small cart he has set up in the corner. “How’s she hanging on?”
“You know her. She’ll never admit that she’s grieving, but she is. Doesn’t matter how much time passes. She misses Dad.”
I grunt as I sit down, sipping my whiskey. The office is ornate, filled with polished wood, lit by real Tiffany lamps. Thick leather-bound books line the shelves, more for show than anything. Dad was never much of a reader. Though Carson has made his mark on this place: new paintings line the walls, mostly landscapes, stuff he likes.
I’m happy he’s making changes to this place. It suits him.
“That makes one of us then,” I say, raising my glass. “To never seeing Dad again.”
Carson grunts at me. He leans back in his chair, puffing away as he stares at me over the glowing cherry. I study him back, waiting for him to finally say what’s on his mind. I don’t get called to the mansion unless there’s a reason, much less taken directly to him by a staff member.
“You went to visit one of Ash’s friends today.” He dabs the cigar out in a crystal ashtray. “Why?”
I let that question hang in the air. It annoys me but doesn’t surprise me. Carson’s relationship with his wife is deeply strange, in a way I’ll never quite understand.
Worse, he wasn’t supposed to know. And yet the fucker does.
“Business,” I say at last, which is at least somewhat true.
Though mostly it was pleasure.
He leans forward. My brother glares at me.
We were close once. Very close, almost like twins. I spent a lot of time with him, years really, and everything we did, we did it together. But then life began to change—he met his wife, became the boss of our family, and I drifted into my own lane. I’ve been friendlier with our younger brothers lately, Liam and Finn. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and all that.