Page 11 of Twisted Knight

Are you there, Mason? Are you watching?

I let the ghost of a smile come, even if momentarily, before opening my eyes and looking at the city that took everything from me.

The same city I’ve returned to, intending to get a piece of it back. The same city I’m now staring at as the auction’s after-party carries on behind me.

It feels weird to be back. And perfectly right.

“My family has been a pillar in this community forever.”

“You’re still here?” I lift an eyebrow but don’t look her way.

“They are, you know.”

“Awesome. Good for them. No doubt you throw your name around as often as possible to show that too. I, on the other hand, couldn’t care less.”

“Fuck you.”

I look her up and down, surprised by her response and rather liking the grit to it. Pretty and polished but blunt and tenacious all at the same time. “Nah. Not my type. But, uh”—I motion to the room full of people at our backs—“be my guest. Maybe you’re one of theirs.”

“Charming.” She holds her hand out for me to shake. “Rowan Rothschild. I’d say it was a pleasure to meet you, but…”

FOUR

Rowan

Yeah, that Rothschild.

There’s the slightest hitch in his movement when I say my name. A cough over his sip of scotch to hide his embarrassment that he was talking like that to me. A Rothschild from Westmore.

I may be buzzed, but I saw it.

What did my brother do now?

That’s my first and only thought as Holden’s glance lingers on my hand before he decides to take it. The shake is slow and thorough, his eyes never leaving mine as he does.

I never throw my name around. I never use it to get access or gain clout, but Mr. Holden Knight needed his ego checked. I knew that would do it.

Is the man gorgeous? Oh my god, yes. In all the best, most mysterious ways.

Is he a prick of epic proportions? So far, it’s looking like he is.

He’s intriguing but aloof. Reserved but talkative. Enigmatic but—

“Rowan Rothschild,” he murmurs as he studies me with that pensive intensity he wears as easily as his tuxedo.

“Perfect daughter and Stepford sister, at your service,” I say with blatant sarcasm and a mock curtsy.

“I knew you looked familiar.”

“Two seconds ago, you were telling me to take a hike, but now that you know who I am, you’re not so eager to see me go.”

“Call me curious.”

“I think I’d call you opportunistic.”

He shrugs. “Always. Is there a problem with that?”

Yes.