And Kiera certainly had no idea how Spencer and I did.
“Eat your heart out, Bunny.” Spencer’s jaw tensed as she watched our guest eat. Even from the opposite side of the island, I could tell Spencer’s boxers would be soaked from watching her like this.
Realistically, we should’ve been more embarrassed.
Breaking the spell, I knew both of us were getting out of control. “So, where do you want to go home to?”
All the light we’d worked to pull out of her dissipated in seconds. Tears brimmed in her eyes, though she kept her gaze low to hide them as she set down her fork.
My throat tightened at the sight. I didn’t expect the fiery pistol I’d met the night before to shut down at a simple question. I wanted to kill whoever had taught her to shrink so quickly. Clearly, someone had tried to tame her, but a woman like Kiera wasn’t meant to be caged.
I decided then and there that I’d rescue my princess from her tower of abusive assholes. Even if she didn’t end up wanting me.
Kiera shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t have any options other than his place.”
As I thought about kicking her out to whatever wolves were waiting for her beyond the front door, my tattoo burned. The hilt peeked out over the neckline of my t-shirt, a constant reminder of that oath I’d sworn. Not just to Valemont Violence, not just to my roommates, but to this woman I’d never met before last night. To all the women I’d ever meet.
The fire spread from the hilt of the sword down my chest to the tip, sitting just above my stomach.
Snapping out of it, I turned to look at her — the gorgeous redhead that had waltzed into our lives. “Go upstairs, Princess. Grab a shower while we talk about a few things.”
Her green eyes flicked between us, unsure if she should obey. But she stood from her stool, polishing off her last bite of French toast and heading down the hall toward her room.
I listened closely to the soft patter of her feet as she made it to the stairs. Once she was out of earshot, I turned to meet Spencer’s gaze. Just as pissed as me, I knew Spencer couldn’t stomach sending her back to the wolves.
It’d be easier to face the monster a few doors down.
Flashing a smile, I leaned on the kitchen counter. “Want to face the beast?”
10
DOM
“I mean,if you just use the equity income from the Elabrium shares to diversify your portfolio, wouldn’t?—?”
A haughty laugh. “Not in this market.”
No matter how hard I rapped my pen against the conference table, it didn’t drown out the incessant stock-jockey yammering that preceded each of these meetings. But it made them uneasy — I could see it in the tensing of their shoulders, the way they avoided looking at the dykey elephant in the room. And anything I could do to fuck with these assholes was a win in my book.
Half of them had no idea what they were talking about anyway, but they sure liked to pretend that they did. In the end, the votes always went the same way, though.
Isaac was these half-wits’ infallible king. They’d rather fall in line for a pat on the head than disturb the peace. They’d let him waste the promise of what Zeus could be, and he would make them feel like the smartest men on Earth for it.
Thankfully, I was only expected to sit in on this circus performance a couple of times a year.
Then, the room fell into a heavy silence. The banging of my pen transformed reluctantly to a drumroll. In walked the king ofthe clowns himself: Isaac Dumont, CEO of Zeus Enterprises. My father.
But as he made his way to his throne at the head of the table, I noticed his favorite court jester was missing. “Where’s Gabriel?”
I hated even saying his name — the smarmy barnacle that had hitched himself to my father’s ship over the past decade. Isaac used to raise me like the son he never had — and then he found Gabe.
“Good morning, Madeline.” He glanced over to make sure his barb had hit before taking a seat, shifting his eyes over the rest of the table. “And good morning to the rest of you.”
I bristled in my seat as the rest of the table offered gleeful salutations, a handful of them snickering in my direction. He knew that I hated my first name — that’s why he insisted on using it at every possible turn.
Once enough time had passed for my shame to set in, Isaac turned to Bernard at his right. The seat on his left remained decidedly empty. “Roll call?”
Bernard rattled through the list of names — across the room, executives in far-too-expensive suits marked their attendance with a simple “present.” It took everything in me to not scrunch up my nose with disgust.
