Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Guess you Richie Riches all know each other,” Alana says, catching my attention.
“Uh…yeah.” That’s all I’m willing to say.
My gaze follows Killian, and I’m waiting for him to look back, but he keeps on, so maybe I’m overthinking this? I’m just relieved he didn’t approach right away, ask me if I’d decided what I was going to do as his future wife. I’ll take that as a win.
5
KILLIAN
He’s mine. Who the hell is this fucker with her grimy hands all over Log?
I don’t normally come here, but I’ve got ears on the ground, and when I was informed Logan showed, I wanted to see my bride-to-be. Lordes have always been known to be protective of their possessions—and we essentially view people as objects. Comes with the whole psychopath territory.
And I’ve been patient with him long enough.
Before, when he fucked around, it was because he didn’t know whom he belonged to, but now that he does, there’s no excuse for him running around with anyone else. It’s disrespectful, especially when I’ve shown him so much grace, allowed him time to come up with an alternative to our agreement.
That’s absurd, though, and he must’ve realized it by now. There’s never been a choice for him but to follow through with this marriage. When I pretended to give him time to consider this, it was for more than my own amusement. It was so I could revel in the deep satisfaction that he would be squirming as he came to accept he had no choice but to submit to me. I’ve already won, but now my possession is pissed he’s caught in a trap, and he’s dared to insult me—a fucking Lorde. I’m livid, and Logan better be glad I’m on a steady diet of antianxiety meds and a mood stabilizer. The things that allow a volatile man like me to function in the world.
“Boss, you want me to grab him for you?” Jaime asks, still sporting that shiner, courtesy of Logan. Seeing it cheers me up, reminds me of what I like about the guy rather than this searing fury in my chest.
“I need a Xanax and a stiff drink to get in a better mood so I don’t do something I regret.”
We’re standing on the mezzanine level, overlooking the lower part of the warehouse, where Logan’s still chatting with his new friend—my new enemy—his arm around her waist. It’s like he wants to show me I don’t own him. That he’s his own man and can fuck whoever he wants. Sooner or later, he’ll come to accept that’s not the case, and if he pushes his luck, he’s gonna learn it tonight.
The fight starts off with some guys I don’t know, but according to Jaime, Logan’s brother is playing tonight, which is probably why Logan came to this rathole. I’m pretty much dead to this shit, maybe because being a Lorde, we’ve seen so much violence in our lives that this seems like child’s play. Although, I must admit, as fists exchange, a calm descends over me. I watch the fight, trying not to be a stalker and give my fiancé the space he needs to make up his mind, but he’s really pushing his luck as he moves closer to the woman, whispering in her ear. Something within me flares, and I find myself growling like an animal.
Logan couldn’t have heard me, but he glances up, locking gazes as he continues whispering to her. And when she laughs, I can’t keep still.
The insolence.
The disrespect.
Rage funnels through my veins.
As I hurry down to the first floor, I fight to keep my composure. Old Terror taught me there’s no use flying off the handle. That it’s much better to manage these impulses, be more measured in my actions. I remind myself that up until a few days ago, Logan didn’t even know he was supposed to marry me. He’s still adjusting to the news that he’s not the free man he believed himself to be, who can run around fucking all the women he wants. But as much sympathy as I may have for him, the Lorde in me won’t be disrespected.
Keep your cool. Don’t lose it. Deep breaths, the way you learned in therapy.
Relief courses through me when I spot him, still chatting up the girl. Not because I want to see this, but because he didn’t sneak off and wind up balls-deep inside her. En route to him, I push some guys out of my way. One’s taller than me and looks about to start something until he recognizes my face. Smart move.
When I reach Logan, I push up beside him and the enemy, catching their attention. I don’t say anything—I doubt I need to. Just stare him down, the heat burning in my cheeks as he issues a cocky smile, clearly knowing what he was doing to me. The bastard.