Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
“All right, buddy. Time to get out of here before I, myself, mess your face up further.” With a cheerful grin, Oliver grabbed Madison by the ear like a nineteenth-century principal, dragging him out for all to see. “And I hate to say this, but from the bottom of my heart, you cannot afford more damage to your already average face.”
People spat out nervous laughter. I noticed no phones aimed at us. Shortbread must have confiscated them upon her guests’ arrival. Smart girl. Dead girl, too, but smart nonetheless.
With Madison kicking, screaming, and threatening legal action while Oliver literally dragged him from the premises, I addressed the real culprit of my life’s undoing.
“What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Not much.” She pouted. “You seem to be doing all the talking for the both of us. Really, Rom? Telling the world about what happened in the hotel room?”
Not my finest moment, I’d give her that. Not that I was in a mood to admit it. “It was our honeymoon. Not one soul under this roof thought we were playing cards and discussing Dante poems in our suite. Now are you ready to be grounded?”
“Are we role-playing right now? Is this where you spank me, Daddy?”
Much to my horror, my dick stirred. Meanwhile, Zach hovered in the periphery, probably afraid I’d do something he thought I’d regret. Like kick Dallas out of my home and toss her Henry Plotkin books into the Potomac.
“Are you aware that Hettie is responsible for every misstep you make?”
That got to her. Shortbread straightened, meeting me in fast strides. “This isn’t her fault. I promised her just a small get-together. But I never expected so many people to show up at your house. I thought they’d all avoid you like the plague.”
“And I’m supposed to believe inviting every single person I’ve ever blacklisted within a hundred-mile radius is a simple innocent mistake?”
She pouted. “I thought it was your friends list. Surprise?” At my flat, unamused expression, she rocked on her feet. “How was I supposed to know what that list was? It’s not like you tell me anything. I don’t know a single thing about you. What city you were born in. The name of your first pet. Your mother’s maiden name. Your favorite food as a child.”
“You learn things by asking, Dallas. Not by throwing ragers that can be heard from the International Space Station.”
“I do ask. You never answer me.”
“Potomac. No pets. Serra. Anything with calories. See how easy that was?”
“Rom.” That came from Zach, who approached my flank.
I ignored him. “Anything else you’d like to know?”
“The make and model of your first car?”
“A Porsche Cayenne.”
“Rom.”
I rounded on Zach. “What?”
“Do these questions ring any bells? From, oh, I don’t know … The security questions to a bank account, perhaps?”
Dallas launched a fierce glare at him. “So, you can enjoy my party, but you can’t help fund it? Are you going to foot the bill if he cuts my credit card? At least stay out of my way while I hustle.”
From the hallway, Oliver cackled. “I love her, Rom. I just do.”
I hadn’t even realized he’d returned.
“Out.” I pointed to the door, followed by my two friends. “Both of you. Out. And you …” I turned to Dallas. “You’re coming with me.”
“Why should I?” She flipped her hair. It took everything in me not to grab her by the waist and fuck the sass out of her in front of a full audience. The only thing stopping me was the fact that, sadly, it was probably part of her master plan.
“Because I said so.”
She gasped theatrically. “Oh, why didn’t you say so? In that case, start walking. I’ll surely follow.”
I smiled. “Because Henry Plotkin’s entire series is going to look lovely with dancing flames around it when your fire theater starts.”
That wiped the satisfied pout from her face. “Lead the way.”
The journey to my bedroom passed in utter silence. Between us, at least. The house itself gushed out more noise than a BTS concert. I closed the door, locking it for good measure. Now that we were alone, uncertainty clouded her delicate features. I got in her face, losing the remainder of my composure.
Her back flattened against my window. “Are you having a heart attack?” But the bite had fled her voice, replaced by timidness. “Seeing as you’re a neat freak and there’s a trillion people partying here.”
“Whose dress is this?” I grabbed the fabric of her garment between us, twisting it until it stretched along her smooth skin.
“Morgan’s.” She stared me down, chin tipped up. “She’s here.”
I didn’t even miss one beat. “Fat chance.”
“How do you know?”
“Because after I finished with her, I exiled her to Norway. She hasn’t set foot in the States for the past six years. She would take her own life before willingly seeking me out.” Cold words. Delivered without an ounce of sympathy. And still, more than what Morgan deserved.