Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 527(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
“Jesus, Aeron!” A girl’s voice breaks through my haze before hands are reaching underneath my arms. “Are you okay?”
I’m on my feet when my brain registers what—or rather who—is in front of me right now. Aeron Romanov Reed—as in the famous rapper and mafia prince, Manik. I almost want to yell his name because that’s pretty much how everyone else says it.
“Yes,” I mutter, looking at the girl who helped me up. She’s beautiful. I think I know who she is, though. I’d seen her on TV whenever Rich would have E! playing in the bar—which was never, but that’s saying how often she’s in the media.
“You were amazing up there,” she says, and then wipes her hand on her jeans, bringing it out to me. “I’m Beatrice, but you can call me Beat, and this is my husband Aeron.” First impression of her is that I like her instantly for the mere fact that she hasn’t introduced her husband as “this is my famous husband, Manik.” It’s an instant turn-on for a lady friendship if the other woman isn’t constantly stroking her own ego.
“Thanks.” I can’t help but stare at her. He’s handsome, but everyone already knows that. Beat is something else. Long raven black hair and olive skin, she’s everything every model wishes she was made from.
“Are you doing anything right now? My grumpy husband is on his way home because, well…” She grins at Manik, who rolls his eyes at her. “He’s grumpy, but I’d love to have a chat with you? Are you free?”
I open my mouth to answer. To say no and that I’m tired, when Delila’s voice interrupts me. “Beatrice, how lovely for you both to show up.”
Beat’s smile instantly falls as she spins around to greet Delila. “Delila.”
“I hope you’re talking to my favorite lead girl to see if you can dance for us again and not because you’re trying to poach her.”
Instantly, that makes me smile. Delila and Beat don’t get along? Maybe I will take her up on her offer.
“Actually,” I interrupt Delila before Beat can say anything. “Neither. We were just about to go for a drink. You know, to celebrate my first successful act.” I try to keep the sarcasm out of my tone but fail miserably when I notice the twitch in Delila’s eye.
“Great!” Beat claps her hands. “We’ll meet you at the limo when you’re ready. We’re parked on the curb.”
I nod, offering her a small smile, as she and her entourage disappear into the darkness.
It’s not until Delila clears her throat that I realize she’s still standing there. “Be careful, Little Bird. Not all that glitters is gold.”
I roll my eyes, heading back to the RV and quickly changing out of my scandalous clothes. I ignore my phone vibrating in my hand and I quickly grab my fur coat and dash back out the door, before any of The Brothers come back. I don’t want to see any of them right now, and to be honest, I feel like a drink.
The music hums around me, as my thoughts remain fixed on a certain red-haired girl who won’t stay the fuck out of my mind. You can’t have her. No matter how many times I replay that same sentence over in my head, it seems the dots just won’t connect in my brain. I know why I’m drawn to her, and I made peace with that a long time ago. It’s part of the deal. Some sick game I like to play with myself, like a damn masochist.
Most of the Midnight Mayhem crew is buzzed as fuck from all of the alcohol being passed around. It’s the after party, but we have one after each damn show. It gets old pretty fast when you’ve been on the road since you were fifteen fucking years old.
My phone pulses in my pocket, and I reach in, thinking over whether or not I want to answer it. My mom calling at this time of the night should be worrying—had my mom been a normal mom, which she’s not. I hit ignore just as Val drops her bony ass into my lap.
“Awww, where’s your cute little toy gone?” Her hand runs over my cheek, the scent of expensive champagne tainting her plump lips.
I whack her hand away. “You of all people should know how my toys are treated.”
Her eyes darken as she brings the bottle of Moët to her mouth. “Don’t I ever.”
I glare at her. “I’m not interested.”
She wiggles in my lap. I clench my jaw and spread my knees out, so she drops between them, landing on the dirt ground. A few people around us stop to look, but not for long, when she snaps at all of them to mind their own fucking business.
Her eyes cut back to mine. “Jeez, King. When did you get extra moody?”