“My land in Brazil has oil. I’m willing to give you a hundred thousand barrels of it in the next twelve months to look the other way.”
The four scoffed in unison.
“You’re willing to give away upward of six million dollars.”
“Yes.” No hesitation. I’d give them a lot more than that if they demanded, but I wasn’t willing to lay it all out on the table. They’d have to negotiate for it.
The youngest brother whistled and Baron said, “Done.”
“It’s a good deal,” Baron’s brother drawled. “For us. You’re losing out.”
I let out a sardonic breath. “Far from it.”
“It’s a deal, then.” Baron extended his hand and we shook on it. “Jacqueline has been causing problems for a while now.”
“She’s on an unregistered yacht, hiding in Greek waters,” his brother chimed in. “Have at her.”
Fuck, she was close—too close—to Sophie.
Chapter 36
Sophie
There was something unsettling about times that felt too perfect. It made you anticipate a disruption that would change it all. A shoe to drop. Maybe it was the fact that I’d never felt so happy before, not since before my parents died.
Or maybe it was a premonition.
Well, I was proven right the following Friday after waking up from the most intense night of sex I’d ever had. My body hummed. The sheets were crumpled, and so were my thoughts when I realized I’d woken up later than usual.
Kian was perfect in every single way, but he had one flaw. He refused to wake me up, even going so far as to turn off my alarms. He claimed I needed rest, but I knew it was more likely he was still terrified of my grumpy morning persona.
By the time I got ready and wrestled the Jeep into second gear, the morning already felt like it was out to get me.
The usual calming scents of salt and jasmine were nowhere to be found as I fought against tour buses with eager tourists pressing their grinning faces to the windows while I rushed to the hospital.
The Jeep bucked when I feathered the clutch, and I cursed myself again for not keeping my rental.
A scooter shot past my mirror, close enough that I felt the air move, and I gripped the wheel, focusing on the road.
And just in time too, since a group of tourists—some staring at their phones, others at the sights around them—stepped out into the road, not paying attention to zooming traffic.
“Of course,” I muttered, braking just in time.
A couple with matching backpacks filmed their street crossing, delighted, and I stalled, killing the engine.
“No, no—” I twisted the key again, my foot on the pedal. The Jeep stirred to life and I eased forward.
When I finally arrived, I heaved a sigh and fanned my face, killing the engine.
“I can’t do this gear shit again,” I muttered as I bounced my temple against the window.
Inhaling a deep breath, I jumped out of the car and made my way inside the hospital. At least there, I knew what I was doing.
The moment the elevator stopped at the maternity ward and I stepped out, the sound of babies crying and the smell of antiseptic hit me.
My shoulders instantly relaxed and I pulled my hair up into a tight bun when a nurse I hadn’t met before came up to me, pressing a clipboard into my hands.
“Good morning.”
