When I was younger, his reserved disposition made sense. I was a kid, and he was …all man. Being dismissed by the men my brothers associated with was nothing novel. It was expected. Until I became an adult and many of those men started to view me differently, much to my brothers’ dismay.
Not Ty though. Never him. He was sweet, polite, friendly, yet distant.
I nearly resolved to forget about him, thinking maybe my brothers would find someone for me who would treat me well and spark a fire inside my bones.
But that brooding, tortured soul Ty donned today speaks to me, feeding a deeply rooted chasmic craving.
I’m officially ablaze.
If anyone understands tortured souls, it’s me. A taste of home.
A savoring I wasn’t fully aware that I was coveting.
I’m not sure what any of that hallway tension was, but it will live rent-free in my mind for the rest of my days.
With “Me and Bobby McGee” crooning in my head, I swing by the sub shop with a skip in my step.
Gerry—the restaurant manager who oversees all the convenient food venues for our resort—holds out my order in a white paper bag with a crown drawn on it. “Here you go, princess. Extra pickles too.”
As I snatch the bag from him, I can feel my cheeks plastered to my ears, far surpassing a smile. “Thanks, Ger.”
He appears to be oblivious to my girlie giddiness, but Wanita never misses a thing.
Gerry’s assistant manager—and one of my favorite girl-talk ladies—peers out from the back, cupping her hands on her face so that only I can see her mouth her question.What’s his name?
I furrow my brows and lift my index finger to my lips, adamantly refusing to divulge that information. I never tell anyone anything personal, except my brother Jax—he’s two years older and my best friend. He’s also a vault, like I am for him.
But Wanita celebrates every pathetic date I’ve ever been on, so I twist my lips in mock innocence. “Am I that obvious, girl?”
She cackles. “Might want to eat something sour before you see your big brothers.”
I wink and wave a don’t-sweat-it hand through the air. “Nah. Nonsensical rants throw them off any scent. At this point, I could fluster the CIA without batting an eye.”
“I believe it, honey,” Gerry bellows as I trot out of the shop toward the elevator, exchanging greetings, inside jokes, and theatrical expressions along the way.
My brothers and I all have a part to play. And this is mine.
At La Lune Noire, I’m known as the Noire princess. My five older brothers get treated like royalty in their own right. But as the only girl—who much of the staff watched grow up—I hold a special role.
And I love it. The prestige. The doting. The relationships.
The staff is my extended family. I never had cousins or unclesor even friends around me. But the head concierge is like a grandpa, and the casino managers are like uncles. Wanita and some of the other ladies who work here might as well be my cool aunts. Amy, the personal shopping manager, and Tessa, the piercing artist, are like big sisters. I could go on. So many of the personnel have a special place in my heart.
It’s both stifling and comforting.
Because there are always eyes on me—exactly as Axel, my oldest brother, and Ryker, the next oldest, have designed it.
Sometimes, I hate the tight rein my brothers grip me with, but it’s accompanied by so much love that it’s hard to be bitter.
And growing up in a resort since the age of six has had its perks.
Like I said, royalty.
One of those perks is the covert tunnel I’m about to enter. The entire resort is centered on a 1920s speakeasy vibe—secret passages and clubs and memberships. Deep pockets alone won’t grant you access. To be an invited guest to the most coveted areas, you have to sell your soul. Or at least be content to have it chained to our family. For life.
But the passageway I’m preparing to sneak through now is at the back of a snack room on the presidential floor of the South Tower. The snacks rarely get noticed because the suites up here are provided with both a butler and a stocked kitchen.
Axel built this area for Jax and me years ago, so only blood gains admittance here.
