Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
He’s a lot like Rex, except he didn’t inherit his wealth. Everything he has, he earned himself. Although, how an eighteen-year-old convinced investors to buy into his hedge fund is beyond me. It tells me St. James is smarter than average or at least cunning.
I need to be careful.
A knock on my door makes me jump. “Coming,” I call, wondering if it’s Rex. I feel guilty, like I’m cheating on him with another dom.
Which is exactly why I need to meet with St. James. I don’t owe Rex anything.
But it’s only a hotel employee, looking sharp in a black suit with a lion’s crest on his name tag. “Delivery from Sir Rex.” He waves away any tip and leaves me with my gift.
A stack of sketchbooks and a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils tied with a yellow bow.
Rex
The text comes at six p.m.
Little bird: Thank you
She follows it with a picture of the sketchbooks I sent her piled on the bed. One of them is open, showing a drawing of the lions outside of Hotel Magnifique.
You’re very welcome
I text back.
Have dinner with me.
Can’t. I have plans.
She’s going to work all night, gathering evidence against me. Not that she’ll find any, but she’ll miss meals on her crusade. And I can’t have that.
You need to eat.
She texts a picture of a middle finger.
I smile. She’s decided to be a brat.
I send a response.
Rule number one for naughty submissives: don’t write checks your ass can’t cover.
I wait for her snarky reply. It occurs to me that the highlight of my day is texting with her. I prefer this over anything on my schedule. Of course I’d rather be with her, but if she won’t allow it, then bantering with her is the next best thing.
I wonder how far she’s gotten into her search. Ivan’s monitored her going in and out of Grand Central Station twice now. She keeps checking the same locker. Probably waiting for a dossier from her friend. The one I’ve scared off.
It’ll be easy enough to intercept any package and make sure it’s redacted enough to only allow the information I want her to have. The hacker KittyBang got deeper into my shields than I would have liked. If she wasn’t Inara’s friend, she’d already be dead. But I made a promise.
“Alfie,” I say aloud to trigger my AI assistant. “Pull up Target Swallow’s data history. I want to see any searches she’s made in the past twenty-four hours.”
Alfie chirps in acknowledgment, and in a few seconds, I’m staring at a list of websites she looked at, as well as the prompts she entered.
They’re all pertaining to me, until a few hours ago. Then they all deal with a hedge fund I know well.
I know it because I was one of its first investors.
Is she trying to find the sources of my income? If so, it’ll take her years. I should be kind and have Alfie create a dossier she can peruse at her convenience, leaving more time for me.
It’s sensitive information, data that my enemies would love to get their hands on, so I’ll have to insist on security measures, like her being tied up in my private dungeon, before I allow her access.
The thought makes me smile.
Then I see what prompted her to seek out this information and choke on pure rage.
Her search terms read: “New Rome Sebastian St. James.”
Why is she researching my sometimes business partner and oftentimes rival?
“Alfie, cross reference Inara Ramos with Sebastian St. James. What are his movements in relation to hers?”
A friendly, high-pitched voice says, “Calculating. Attendance, New Rome PD ball. Sebastian St. James arrival, twenty minutes after you, two hours before Inara Ramos.”
“What else?”
“Sebastian St. James, co-owner of Club Empire. Inara Ramos, platinum member since September—”
“Anything today?” I interrupt it.
“Inara Ramos, incoming phone call. Sebastian St James.”
He’s called her. The bastard. “Run transcription.”
“Running.” Alfie chirps twice. “Transcription not available.”
I have Inara’s phone tapped. Every call she gets is recorded. That’s how I tracked her friend Mina. I know everyone she calls or texts and the contents of each conversation.
Except for this one.
Which means he blocked my trace.
St. James is no one to mess with, and my little bird has caught his eye. He’s trying to reel her in, and that will not stand.
“Where is Target Swallow now?”
“Inara Ramos, booked a rideshare. Destination, Club Empire.”
“Keep monitoring. I’m going out.”
No one fucks with my little bird. No one but me.
MY Swallow,
I know you’ve been unfaithful. I watched you go to the club to talk to HIM. What can HE give you that I can’t? We share a bond. It’s special. If you don’t stay away from him, there will be consequences.
I’ve tried to keep the ugliness from our perfect connection, but you leave me no choice. I won’t let anyone have you. I’ll DESTROY anyone who thinks they can get close to you. Even if it hurts, I’ll keep you pure. If that means killing everyone close to you, I will.