Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Mind if I cut in?” I murmur once I’m beside them, just loud enough for our small corner of the floor to hear. “Elaina promised me the first slow dance.”
“I did!” Elaina says, widening her eyes my way in silent thanks. “He’s a stuffy guy from the city who’s never slow-danced in his entire life. Can you believe that, Rory? Never!” She laughs one of her infectious laughs even as she presses her palms into his chest with enough force to allow her to twist free. “Isn’t that wild?” She giggles as she sways into me.
I swing her away from Rory with one flex of the arm I wrap around her waist, keeping my focus locked on the drunk man to ensure I’m ready if he decides to start something.
Rory blinks, looking confused for a moment, before his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He glares at me for a beat, his beady brown eyes resentful, but a beat is all it takes for him to realize that he doesn’t want to poke this bear. I’m not only taller and stronger; I’m meaner and a hundred times more dangerous. Despite his intoxication, Rory is apparently able to read that truth in my gaze, and makes a swift departure from the floor, his tail tucked between his legs.
“Thanks for the rescue,” Elaina murmurs, pitching her voice low enough that only I can hear. “But you could have done it in a way that looked less like you were marking your territory.”
“You think?” I sway toward the back of the room, away from the curious gazes of our friends who are still dancing, and Sully and Weaver against the wall. “I find marking my territory is the fastest way to get rid of the competition.”
“Well, yes, but you’re not supposed to be competing for me,” she says. “We’re supposed to be casual acquaintances who are not the slightest bit attracted to each other. That way our friends will never imagine that you’re the man who knocked me up and left me in a very nice penthouse.”
I glance down at her, my lips hooking up on one side. “I believe I said a condo, not a penthouse.”
She smiles, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, yes, but you could afford a penthouse. I did a deep google search on you while I was waiting for my curlers to set. You really are a billionaire. Like buh billionaire with a B. Not a multi-millionaire or just wildly rich. You are obscenely, offensively wealthy.”
“Offensively?” I echo. “You don’t seem offended.”
“That’s because I’m a nice person,” she says. “But I am offended. Billionaires are the bad guys.”
I arch a brow. “Does that include Weaver, Gideon, and Anthony, as well?”
“Weaver, a little, yes, but Sully’s working on adjusting his moral compass. Anthony has already quit the finance racket to be a professor, and Gideon is just a hippy builder who loves the outdoors and happened to get lucky. He didn’t pillage for his wealth.” She gives me a quick up and down before sniffing in disapproval. “Unlike you. You’re like a pirate, raiding and looting and leaving the companies you suck dry worse off than when you found them.”
“Am I a vampire or a pirate?” I ask, unfazed. I’ve heard this argument before, and my conscience remains clear. “You’re mixing your metaphors. You’re also ignoring the fact that if I didn’t take advantage of these opportunities, someone else would. Likely someone who wouldn’t donate to charity as generously as I do. The broken system is what it is. Until it changes, there’s no sense in me changing the way I do business.”
“But if everyone stopped exploiting the broken system, then it would have to change,” she says, her idealism shining in her eyes. “We need a revolution, Hunter.”
“A revolution or a penthouse?” I challenge. “You can’t have both.”
She rolls her eyes. “I was kidding about the penthouse. And I don’t actually expect you to join the resistance, don’t worry. But I will be raising our child to be a bleeding heart who wants to narrow the wealth gap. You shouldn’t be making half a million dollars in passive income every month while kids are kicked off food stamps. It’s disgusting.”
“I agree,” I say, adding in a softer voice. “And you can raise the child any way you please. I’m sure, no matter what moral code you ascribe to, you’ll do an excellent job. As far as I’ve been able to discern, you have an impeccable heart, and I have no doubt you’ll be an amazing mother. Any child would be lucky to have you in their corner.”
She blinks, studying me, before letting out a long slow breath. “You…”
My brows lift.
“You’re trouble,” she says. “Just when I’ve decided you’re irredeemable, you go and say something like that.”
“Something true? I believe in truth.”