Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 55744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
"Good." He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "So, you like your present?"
Remembering the charm, she nodded her head, picking it up again and rubbing it between her fingers as pleasure from his gift permeated her shock and rushed through her system.
"Happy birthday," he said in a stiff tone.
"Thank you," she replied a bit awkwardly.
He watched her in silence for a moment too long, and then he let out a defeated sound. "I need a drink." He walked to the sideboard and began mixing a cocktail.
A few seconds later, Courtney heard the front door open. After a moment, Erin flounced into the room with a grin. She threw her brother a smile and then made a beeline for Courtney.
"Happy eighteenth birthday, little sister," she teased as she enveloped Courtney in a warm embrace.
Hugging Erin, Courtney peeked over the girl's shoulder and saw Nick watching them with ill-concealed irritation. Her nerves took another hit. Surely she wasn't reading his expression correctly; his features reflected a maddened look of resentment. His legs were braced apart and his teeth were clenched, as tension seemed to hold him in its grip.
As she continued to watch him over Erin's shoulder, his frown only intensified. He stared back at her, holding her gaze captive. Watching her intently, locking her eyes with his, he lifted his glass and threw back the liquor, swallowing it down in one shot.
Chapter One
Six years later
Nick glanced up with a scowl as Damian pushed into his office and tossed a folder on his desk. Not appreciating the interruption, Nick threw his pen aside and rasped, "What the hell am I supposed to do with that?"
Ignoring Nick's sour mood, Damian tilted his head toward the folder. "Garrett's fishing for property on the East Coast again. I need you to look it over and make a decision when you get a chance. It looks good to me, but you've got the Florida real estate experience, not me."
Silently acknowledging the real reason he'd taken so many trips to Florida, Nick flipped open the folder. With a questioning grunt, he scanned the title page and glanced down at several photos in bold color. "Another hotel? What's so different about this one that I have to make a decision? I trust his judgment. Don't you?"
"Yeah, but this time there's a little more to it than buying, restructuring and selling for a quick profit."
His attention arrested with that statement, Nick glanced back up and looked at Damian. "What's up?"
"He wants to keep it," Damian answered flatly.
"Keep it? What the fuck for? The Rule Corporation doesn't keep shit. At least, only very rarely. Does Garrett not get what we do for a living? Do we need to send his ass back to school?"
"It's a little late for that." Damian chuckled, glancing out the window and then back to the folder. "Just take a look, will you? I actually think it's a good idea. You know he's wanted to branch out for a while now. Actually, expanding is probably a damn good idea. And we have to start somewhere, might as well be real estate. Goddamn, look how much fucking money we've made since we bought this building."
Nick tilted his head in agreement. There was no question that buying the downtown high-rise had been a stroke of genius. And it had been their youngest brother's idea. "I'll take a look, but I'm telling you, I don't have the time to run another subsidiary. Do you have any idea how much travel that would entail? We'd have to hire new people."
"Garrett can handle it since he has such a hard-on about it. But you have to admit, the kid's on the right track. We've almost doubled our profits with the corporate rents we're pulling in from this building alone."
"True," Nick agreed, glancing back down at the pictures in front of him.
Damian stalled for a moment before continuing. "Speaking of the building . . . you're not going to like this--"
"What?" Nick asked, lifting his head and narrowing his eyes on Damian, already pissed from just the tone of his brother's voice.
"Your dear mother--"
"Whose mother?" Nick quickly interrupted his brother's sarcastic opening gambit.
"Our mother." Damian admitted, smirking. "She's redecorating the house and asked if she could use the penthouse--"
"I live in the goddamn penthouse," Nick interrupted with an impatience he couldn't contain.
"I know you do. Obviously why I prefaced that statement with 'you're not going to like this.'" Damian replied blandly.
"Do not fucking tell me you gave her a key card," Nick spit out.
"I didn't." Damian stated with a sly smirk.
Nick studied the expression on his brother's face with building anger, instinctively bracing for what was coming. "Don't fuck with me," he hissed out.
"I didn't give her one." Damian's mouth twisted in a shit-faced grin before lowering his boom. "I gave it to Courtney."