Grandmont is the last man I should keep company with.
My father—a gangster born from nothing—prizes designer clothes and fancy homes, but more than anything, he absolutely covets royalty. Grandmont is the exact kind of man my father wished for me to marry.
But worse, and of far more significance, the Duke of Grandmont is Ryker’s eldest brother.
“But why…” I start, sitting back on the couch as I realize that my escape, my rush for freedom, is being heavily chaperoned.
Lord Grandmont says no more as he swivels back toward his computer and begins to work again.
This time, I let the silence fall.
He’s been clear, he’s not giving me anymore information, that I’m wasting my time asking questions.
But that doesn’t stop them from swirling in my head.
Ryker made it seem as though he was putting me on some random plane, that once it landed, I’d be free to take my money and establish my own life.
Is that still the case?
I nip at my lip as I watch the duke work. Unbuckling my seatbelt, I push off the couch.
“Where are you going?” he asks, the clicking of keys ceasing in an instant.
I stop. I’ve been a prisoner before. My father kept us locked in his house for the better part of five years, only letting us out when he dressed us up like dolls and paraded us out in public while we were heavily guarded.
And then, once our brother stole us from our father’s care, he kept us contained in a high-security apartment.
“It’s a plane. There aren’t many places to go,” I say before I turn back toward the bathroom. If he isn’t going to answer my questions, why should I answer his?
He spins the chair around, watching me as I enter the bathroom and close the door. Which means his question was answered. I wrinkle my nose in irritation, wishing I’d been able to give him a better taste of his own medicine.
When I come out two minutes later, he’s still facing me, leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
“Your Grace,” I give him my most regal nod as I start for my seat once again.
“Miss Ivanov,” he returns, causing the slightest hitch in my step. Of course, he knows my last name. I was supposed to marry his brother.
I settle back down on the couch, clearing my throat. I won’t give him the satisfaction of asking more questions.
He continues to stare, the silence stretching out between us.
“Your sister did just fine today,” he says. “In case you were wondering.” I hear the judgment that laces his voice, the words meant to dig. Does he think I’m a bad person for leaving her in Vegas? Does he want to shake my confidence? Ass.
“I’m sure your brother will make an excellent husband to her,” I quip back, not taking his bait. Why judge me, if Ryker is all that he’s promised to be?
He harrumphs, and I think I might have actually landed a point. But then he cocks his head to the side. “But not to you?”
My mouth twitches down into a frown. “I have no idea.”
“Then why leave?”
I notch my chin. “I don’t think you’ve answered a single one of my questions.”
“Not true. I told you my name.”
I shake my head. “I’m not telling you anything else, until you answer another one of my questions.”
He lets out a dark rumble. “Fine.”
