Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
The building is a massive marble beauty, like a temple to an ancient god. Huge ornate doors sit at the front surrounded by columns at least a story tall. Luxury vehicles are parked in a small lot off to the side, and a valet meets us as soon as I pull around front.
“I haven’t been here in a while,” I murmur to Fiona as she takes my arm. We head up the steps and in through the main front door. Security knows me already, and I’m allowed a guest each time I visit. We pass the armed guards and step into an enormous entry hall, and Fiona sucks in a sharp, surprised breath.
Marble floors. Marble statues. Chairs, couches, fireplaces crackling with flames, a small jazz trio playing soft standards. A front desk where absurdly professional staff helps guests.
And dominating the space is the tree.
“How?” she asks, shaking her head like she’s coming up from a dream.
The oak grows in the center of the building. The roots cut down, deep into the earth. The top brushes against the roof, seeking freedom. It shouldn’t exist in here—it can’t actually get any sunlight—but somehow, it grows, and thrives, and even drops its leaves in the winter.
“Magic,” I say, putting my hand on the small of her back. She shivers, head turning to look at me, lips parting.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispers.
“This place is as exclusive as it gets,” I say, steering her toward the dining hall where we’re having dinner. “I’m a junior member still, but if I can land the Crowley deal—” My fingers curl, digging into her skin.
“There’s more?” she asks, bewildered.
“An entire floor I’ve never seen before.” Beautiful men and women walk through the space, drinking, speaking quietly. I recognize some of them, actors, politicians, business leaders. I nod to a few I’ve met during previous visits. “I come here with the boys as often as I can.”
“Networking,” she says, clearly getting over her initial surprise.
“Something like that.” We step into the dining hall. A sudden spike of nerves makes me hesitate. I’m about to throw Fiona to the wolves and I haven’t prepared her at all, but at least Evander and Lanzo aren’t here. It’s only Carmine and Ford, right? That shouldn’t be a big deal. “Listen, about my friends—”
But it’s too late. “Gareth, there you are, you old bastard.” Carmine waves to me from a table nearby. He’s grinning, ear to ear, giving me a look like what have we here. He’s a big guy, amiable, Italian. Dark hair, dark eyes. Ford’s with him, also tall, sandy hair and blue eyes, a proper blue-blood-looking asshole. Both of them are drinking already, while their wives sit across the table.
Brice is Carmine’s. Pretty girl, blonde, blue eyes, big smile. She’s spotless, buttoned up. Looks incredible, even after two kids. She stands and comes over to give Fiona a hug. Kat comes next, Ford’s wife. She’s currently pregnant, deep into her sixth month by the look of her. I kiss her cheek before pulling Fiona against my side, almost like I’m protecting her from my friends.
“Everyone,” I say, heart racing. Might as well get this over with. “Meet my wife, Fiona.”
They stare in stunned silence. I try not to smile. It’s nice to see Carmine and Ford speechless for once.
“Wife?” Ford finally sputters.
“It’s so nice to meet you,” Brice says, looking bewildered. “I didn’t know Gareth was seeing anyone.”
“Much less married,” Kat adds. “How? When?”
“Uh, nice to meet you too,” Fiona says, throwing me a look.
Carmine introduces himself hesitatingly, shakes her hand, before grabbing me and dragging me to the bar. I toss Fiona an apologetic look, but it’s better I settle this now. Ford follows, shaking his head. “Wife?” he hisses. “What the fuck, bro?”
“I know,” I say, grimacing. “I wanted to tell you both sooner, but it happened fast.”
“Who the hell is she?” Carmine asks.
“She’s so fucking young,” Ford says, shaking his head. “I thought you were more into women. Not girls fresh out of college.”
“Yes, thanks, I’m aware of her age.” I give him a sharp look then order a whiskey, neat. “She was my legal secretary, and before you two flip out, the whole marriage thing isn’t real.”
They both fall silent. Carmine seems concerned, but Ford just looks confused.
“You’re fucking with us?” Ford asks, looking at Carmine. “This is a joke?”
“If hope it’s a joke, it’s a shitty one,” Carmine says.
“No, we really are married, but—” I rub my face. “Look, it’s complicated. But we came to an arrangement.”
“An arrangement,” Ford echoes flatly.
I glance at the table. Fiona’s talking with Brice and Kat. She’ll be fine—the girls are really sweet. Brice is the kind of person that can make anyone feel comfortable, and Kat’s about as harmless as they get.
It’s hard not to notice how fucking gorgeous Fiona looks in that dress though. She shines in this room—practically glows with raw, sexual energy.