Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
If this motherfucker wants to get in, he's going to have to work for it.
"Jesus Christ," Zayne breathes after reading the poem. "That's fucked."
"That's not even the worst of it. He left a dead songbird at her front door a few days ago. Wrapped it up in a gift box with a bow on it."
"Fucking hell," Zion mutters. "And you left her alone?"
"Nah. She's at the studio, surrounded by her band and producers. She'll be there all day. They're working on her first album." Wild horses wouldn't have dragged me from that studio if I thought she was in any danger. But the studio is closed, meaning no one without authorization is getting in. Kenna knows not to even step foot outside without me. She's as safe as she can be without me breathing down her neck.
And right now, she doesn't need me breathing down her neck. She needs to do her job, and I need to do mine. She needs to know that she can trust me not to drop the ball just because we're mixing business and pleasure. This is foreign territory for both of us, but she's the one taking a big leap of faith here. Not just because she's afraid of things ending badly, but because this is her career and her future at stake. If I fuck up, it's her life on the line.
That's not a risk I'm willing to take with her. My job isn't just protecting her. It's protecting everything she's worked to accomplish. She has to know not only that she's safe, but that everything she's worked for matters to me. She hasn't sacrificed as much as she has just to watch it slip through her fingers now because I wasn't careful enough or didn't take it seriously enough. Women are asked to choose between love and their careers all the time. I won't be the motherfucker forcing her to make the same choice. She will have both.
Love. Jesus. Is that really what I want from her? Her heart?
Is it even a question? Fuck yeah, that's what I want. I won't settle for anything less.
"Any suspects?"
"Not yet. I just took the case yesterday."
"Mmhmm. And I know how you operate," Zion says, leaning against the wall beside the closet. "You've got a sixth sense for shit like this."
"I'm not sure if it's her manager or a fan," I mutter.
"It's usually a fan."
"You haven't seen the way her manager looks at her."
"He's fucking her?"
"He's not fucking her," I growl, narrowing my eyes at Zayne.
He and Zion share a telling look. I don't say a word. We'll have a conversation eventually, but not today. Right now, I want to keep what's happening between me and Kenna just between the two of us. It's ours. No one else has a place or a say in it, not even my brothers.
"So he wants to fuck her," Zayne says after a moment.
I shoot him a death glare. "He's not fucking her. Doesn't matter what he wants. She's not interested."
"Okay then," he says, looking at me like I've lost my damn mind. Shit, maybe I have. Hell if I know. But I don't want to think about another man putting his hands on her. I don't want to even think about one considering putting his hands on her. The fact that her prick of a manager wants to sleep with her pisses me off.
But does it make him guilty of anything more than being an asshole who preys on his clients? I don't know. The jury is still out on that one.
"I need you to look into him for me," I order Zion. "See what you can dig up."
"Send me what you've got on him and I'll take a look," my younger brother agrees.
"Thanks."
"By the way, you missed the shitshow here yesterday," he says with a grin.
"Fuck off," Zayne immediately growls. "There was no show."
I cock a brow, not sure what the fuck they're talking about.
"Zayne tried to score a date with Emma Cooper, Camila's assistant." Zion's grin grows. "Ask him how it went. Please ask him how it went."
"How'd it go?"
Zayne starts muttering under his breath. I can't make out a damn word he's saying…if he's even speaking English. But his face is red. The motherfucker is actually blushing. It must have been a disaster if he's blushing because Zayne has no shame.
Zion cracks up. "He mistook her for a client, wouldn't let go of her hand, and then told her that they could get the dating shit out of the way so he could put a ring on her finger. She basically fled from the office like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels. I'm waiting for Nashville's finest to show up with an Order of Protection."
"Jesus Christ, Zayne." I stare at him in shock, caught between the desire to laugh in his face and commiserate. I know exactly how it feels to be knocked flat on your ass by a woman you never saw coming. Kenna certainly sent me reeling. But Jesus. My oldest brother wouldn't know subtle if it bludgeoned him over the head.