Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“I was still an active participant. It’s not my fault you thought taking three Viagra pills was smart,” I chastise.
The restaurant is closed to the public for tonight’s party. I don’t recognize everyone here, but many of our family and friends are in attendance.
The moment Anya spots us, she pauses her conversation, glaring at her son, and makes her way over to us. Suddenly, I’m not so sure about walking him around with a collar and leash.
I’m surprised when she places a kiss on either side of my cheek and then stares at Hawke. “What bet did you lose?” she asks him in her Russian accent. A wave of relief washes over me. Of course, she knows her son well enough.
He mumbles something, and all either of us can catch is the word “Viagra.”
She shakes her head as she looks me up and down approvingly. “I’m glad you came. I’ve recently heard you two are a thing.”
I glance at Hawke, who’s wearing a shit-eating grin. His arm wraps around my waist, and he pulls me in close, proud as shit. Anya doesn’t miss a thing, and I can never read what she’s thinking. But finally, she says. “Keep him in check. He often likes to be reckless.”
“You make it sound like she’s not as reckless as me,” Hawke scoffs, and I elbow him in the ribs.
The corner of Anya’s lips curve as she notices a waitress walk by and she’s clearly furious about something the girl is doing wrong. “Enjoy your evening. Congratulate your father on his new restaurant opening.”
I always find it ironic that although these powerful men and women run deadly underground businesses, they also use legitimate businesses to mask their true fortune. Her husband, River Bently, owns most of the high-end restaurants in Manhattan.
I spot Billie, who’s sitting down, waving at me. She’s wearing a beautiful honey-colored dress, and Ford can’t peel his gaze from her as he sits beside her.
We wind our way through the crowd to get to their table, and she pulls out the chair next to her, indicating I take it. Ford is staring at his brother, but it’s Billie who speaks on both of their behalf.
“I don’t even think I want to ask what the collar and leash are about.” She takes my hand and squeezes it. “I’ll settle for, ‘I’m glad you came.’”
“That’s what she said,” Hawke jokes, and I nudge him in the ribs again. He chuckles and then notices Eli and Jewel standing across the room. “Be right back,” he says and goes into business mode, which is rather comical when he’s wearing a collar and leash. But I’ll be fucked if I’m removing them anytime soon. I quite like everyone knowing whose bitch he is.
I’m searching the table for a glass of water when someone suddenly takes the seat on the other side of me. “Ivy Walker,” River says. Wow, I’m really getting the full treatment tonight. When he greets the other two, Billie smiles, and Ford watches him with amusement.
“Congratulations on the opening of your restaurant,” I say to him.
“Thank you. I hear there’s plenty of things to celebrate as of late,” he replies. “I hope it’s not too presumptuous to say, but welcome to the family. You too, Billie.” He makes a point to include her.
Goose bumps rise all over my skin because it feels strange how quickly everything is moving. It feels right, but it also feels like we’re all in from the start, and there’s no way to backpedal. Not that I want to backpedal, but it’s like there’s no safety net. And I still haven’t told my parents. I know they’re back in town, and I should speak with them soon, but I’ve been so preoccupied with everything else that updating my relationship status hasn’t seemed like a priority. It has to Hawke, though. I look over at him as Eli frowns at something he says when it makes Jewel laugh. She’s wearing a black dress with a long slit that ends at her upper thigh. She’s hot as fuck, and the way Eli possessively holds her, he lets everyone know she’s off-limits, as if the ring that can be spotted across the room isn’t indication enough.
“You don’t want a glass of wine?” River asks, furrowing his brows when he realizes I’m the only one without a drink.
“No, thank you. Water is fine,” I tell him with a polite smile. The problem is that people get suspicious when you go from a party girl who likes to celebrate getting a pedicure with a mimosa to someone who just drinks water. But I don’t give a fuck what people think.
River nods as he says, “My wife doesn’t drink either; she has never drunk alcohol from the day I met her.” He then looks at Ford, who has a drink in front of him. It’s known within our inner circle that Ford doesn’t drink and only uses the glass as a prop. I’ve never asked about the reason behind it. But it makes me feel better that River tries to normalize not drinking. I look at him appreciatively. If he didn’t have a psycho wife, and I wasn’t besotted with his son, I’d say River Bently is a catch.