Miranda, who I know has been listening in from the start since her perfume grew more noticeable when Eight knocked on the door of my room in the Clark’s compound to issue his tenth apology, giggles during his last statement.
I veer my fist toward his eyes.
“Jesus fucking Christ. I was giving her a compliment. Not an invitation to my bed.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Keep your beady eyes off my woman. Clothed or naked.”
Whilepfftinglike I have no reason for my anger, he hands me a wadded piece of paper. When our eyes lock, he silently pleads for me to open it in private.
When I nod, suddenly remorseful that my jealousy has me seeing friends as enemies, Eight pivots on his heel and stalks down the corridor.
He’s partway down when I try to make up for his bloody nose. “She’s single.”
He cranks his neck back to face me, his smile announcing he appreciates my extension of an olive branch but that he has no intention of letting me off easily. “Who?”
I play stupid as well as I do jealous. “A giant doesn’t want a boneless carcass to feast on. He needs meat. Lots ofjuicymeat.”
It’s fucked to admit this while standing across from my brother in arms, but I’ll never be a man who tiptoes around the truth. I much prefer stomping on it.
I’m hard as stone and uncaring who knows it since my room door has a lock, and the woman from my dreams is making herself at home in my domain.
With a grin of a serial killer, Eight says, “I’ll buy you an hour. Any longer than that, you’re on your own.”
His reply has me wishing he was dead. Eight only knocks at your door when you’re being summoned. That summoning only occurs around here by one man. Nikolai.
This kills me to admit, but I never thought the day would come where I’d put a woman above my loyalty to Nikolai.
Today is that day.
When Nikolai underhandedly threatened Miranda, I almost lost my shit. It was only when I recalled why his guards are up did my anger sit the fuck down.
He wasn’t pissed about the massive hit his empire just took, or that someone is playing him for a fool. He’s worried about Justine and how she will handle the best caterer in the state playing hooky on her big day.
He wants to protect hisahrenfrom a bucketload of disappointment as readily as I’m striving to do the same for my butterfly.
After a quick work of my jaw, I open the note.
As expected, it is from Nikolai.
Need to see you at P’s.
Bring your girl.
When I flick my eyes up, my thoughts a mix between fuck no and double fuck no, Miranda strays her eyes to mine. She’s holding an invoice in her hand, and a deep groove is scoured between her dark brows.
“Did you witness Roy replace my birth control pills, or did he tell you he did that?”
I grind my back molars together to lessen the severity of my scorn while pacing closer to her. “I witnessed him do it.”
“When?” She doesn’t sound angry. She is more curious than anything.
I think back to the numerous times I saw her almost build the courage to leave him before I rewind back to the only time he gave me any indication he wanted to keep her for himself.
“It was around a month ago. You’d gone out for a run in that hideous sweater he was adamant you had to wear over your workout clothes. He extended the route on your running app so you’d be gone long enough for him to change your birth control pills.”
She looks torn between kissing me and strangling me.
Or perhaps she wants to kiss me and strangle her husband.
