His father barks out a laugh and claps…a slow, mocking sound.
“The infamous Elias Kent. Unruffled even when staring death in the face.”
The older man leans toward the camera. “Part two is impossible for you, I’m afraid. But since you’re curious, I’ll tell you. We want the Andersons to join The Association.”
His words echo against the walls, and the room shrinks before me.
My nostrils flare and I inhale. I shouldn’t be surprised. The Association has wanted this for years, despite every refusal. The Andersons are influential and respectable. Having the family on their side will only bolster The Association’s power. But Maxwell and his siblings have too much honor to join them.
And now? With him in the ICU, the bloodshed at The Orchid, and Lana locked in her room next door?
Edon might as well ask me to turn the sky green.
“Impossible task, you see? We’ll take Ms. Anderson off your hands.”
Agron gets up and strides to the door. “Looks like I’m going to get my first taste of the Anderson cunt. I hear she’s a virgin. Thirty-four and untouched? I’ll have to find out if that’s true.”
I shoot up so fast, the chair crashes against the wall behind me.
“I’ll marry her. I’ll marry Lana Anderson.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. It’s an impulse to stop the bastards from having her. But as my mind spins with the ramifications, I realize this might be the solution.
A feminine gasp filters through the wall.
My chest constricts. Lana’s awake.
“Looks like someone wants to join the party.” A sneer carves up Agron’s face, and seconds later, he drags Lana inside by her hair.
She stumbles in, her face flushed with anger, wearing nothing but my shirt.
She’s fucking glorious.
“Let go of me, you asshole! I’m not marrying anyone, least of all him!” She points at me.
My pulse riots, my fingers twitch, but I force myself to remain still.
Relax my shoulders. My jaw. Unclench my fingers.
A good chess player never shows his tells.
Agron tosses Lana into a chair. Myzemërstiffens, blows the hair out of her face, and gets back up. Ignoring the fucker, she storms my way and jabs me in the chest.
“Elias Kent, if you think I’ll marry you after you shot Maxwell, you’re delusional!”
“And yet…you will.”
Her intoxicating roses hit my nose, and my skin lights up before I exhale. I soak in every inch of her—her cheeks brightening in an alluring shade of pink, her charcoal eyes burning hot with hatred.
I bet I can make them burn for another reason.
“You’re the last person I’ll marry.” She stabs me again with her finger. With each jab, her voluptuous tits sway underneath my shirt. The movement hardens my cock in seconds.
Fuck me.
“You don’t get to decide,” I rasp, my voice guttural and thick. “Not a democracy, Lana.”
I sprawl in my chair, thankful the table is blocking Agron’s full view.
But my princess misses nothing. Her gaze snaps to my groin. Her lips part, eyes widening when she sees my hard cock saluting her through my pants. The maddening pulse beats faster at the base of her throat.
