Total pages in book: 175
Estimated words: 164346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Her face falls, and she stiffens against me. “What did you do?”
“I lied,” I admit.
“About?” she growls.
I had told her that I had an early meeting at the house of Lords, but that’s not where I’ve been for the past two hours. “I had a meeting, but it wasn’t with the Lords.”
She frowns. “Why would you lie about that? Haven’t I proven myself, Ryat? That I can handle this.”
“Of course, you have.” I didn’t want to get her hopes up just in case it didn’t work out, but it did. And now I’m dying to tell her. “I had a meeting with Gregory Mallory.”
Her frown deepens, tilting her head to the side. “I … wait, isn’t he the judge that you went to jail for?”
I nod. “He owed me a favor.”
“What kind of favor?” she asks skeptically.
“Remember how you said if you had the choice, you’d choose to stay living here in the cabin, in Pennsylvania?”
“Yeah,” She answers slowly.
“Well, I just cashed in my favor.”
“I don’t understand.” She licks her wet lips.
“He’s going to be retiring and when that happens, I’m going to take over his position.” Being a Lord is a fast-track to your career. But it’ll still be about ten years out before I’m a judge. In the meantime, I’ll be a high-priced attorney to get the courtroom time needed. If I start right out of the gate, it’ll raise too many questions.
She gasps, her hands going to her mouth. “Are you serious?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“We’re staying here?” Her hands hit my chest excitedly. “We don’t have to go to New York?”
“Nope.” I shake my head.
She jumps up and down before she slams her lips to mine. My hands go to her wet hair.
I never wanted to go to New York. My wife’s reluctance just solidified it for me. I can be powerful anywhere I go. The Lords want me to be a judge, so that’s what I’ll be, but they never said where I had to live. Everyone just expected me to go back home, but things have changed. This woman has become my home. She’s having my sons. And even more of my kids after that. I want a house full of them. I’m going to keep her knocked up. She deserves for me to give her the life that she wants. And that is here, in this cabin, with me and our growing family.
I can’t guarantee that I’ll grow old with her, but I will spend every second of every day that I’m alive proving to her that she comes first no matter what.
BLAKELY
I ENTER THE house I grew up in, in Texas. Shutting the door behind me, I walk down the hallway to my father’s study. Turning the doorhandle, I pause and knock on it instead.
“Come in.” The voice calls out.
Taking in a deep breath, I enter. LeAnne sits behind his desk, looking like the queen sitting on her throne, dressed in a black off the shoulder dress with her fake tits popping out the top. Her dark hair up in a tight twist.
I hate how much I look like her. It’s a reminder of how stupid I was all those years that I believed the lies I was told about my mother.
“Does Ryat know you’re here?” Is her first question.
“Of course.” Lie. “I don’t keep secrets from my husband.” There’s no way in hell he’d let me come and see her without him. He hates her! Doesn’t trust her. I feel the same way, but a part of me couldn’t turn down her request to see her today. Ryat got called away for an assignment late last night and I feel like that wasn’t a coincidence. Something tells me that this woman has a lot of pull with the Lords. I’m just praying that he’s too busy to check the tracker he placed in me after I ran. A part of me wants to rip it out. The other part reminds me that it saved my life and being a Lady means I’m never truly safe.
She smirks, gesturing to the chair across from the desk. “You’ll learn that even in a marriage, sometimes the only person you can trust is yourself.”
“Coming from the woman who left her family.” I bite. I feel bad for my father too, I wasn’t the only one she left behind. But she’s got him fooled. Considering he still seems to love her.
She opens up a drawer in the desk and hands me a piece of paper. “What is it?” I ask, keeping my hands in my lap.
“Have a look.”
Reaching out, I take it and read over the writing. It’s a marriage license with her and my father’s name on it. “I don’t understand.”
“Me and your father got married his senior year at Barrington.”
I frown. “What’s this have to do with me?” Tossing it onto the desk, I sit back in the chair. “Just further proves my point that you left not only your daughter but also your husband.”