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“Wow. Bunny dessert and a green smoothie?” I’m baffled, looking between them. “Whose cock am I riding in the car?”
Zander laughs like a cynical bastard, and Ares is smirking from ear to ear. I hear a sigh from the corner of the room that has to be from Warren. The choking that leads to loud coughs has to be Domino choking on something.
Good. Let him die on his own egg benedict bullshit.
“Would you two stop spoiling her like some sort of princess?” Domino snaps. “What the fuck did she do to be pampered this morning? She could barely survive my workout.”
“No one can survive your workout,” Ares complains and shivers. He’s already dressed in his attire for his photoshoot today.
He looks amazing, wearing an orange turtle-neck sweater with golden tinsel woven into the cozy material. I can tell it’s from an expensive brand, but I can’t see the logo. He matched it with black velvet pants with a similar handstitched tinsel design along the exterior trimming of the tailored fit, and the velvet jacket he plans to wear is nestled behind his chair before he pulls it out and takes a seat opposite Zander.
His hair is slicked back, showing his flawless face, which is nothing short of perfection. I get why he’s a model and does stunning in the tabloids with his photoshoots.
“You treat everyone like we’re training for actual war,” Ares complains, just as a maid rushes in to set down a warm plate of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and freshly baked bread with a basil butter dip. “Why else do you think we make sure to leave the gym empty for you in the mornings?”
“Because you respect me and my space, duh,” Domino argues.
“Did the gym not come with the mansion when we built it?” Zander asks, as if this is a question that needs to be answered.
“Built it from scratch?” I ask for clarification but remember Zander or Ares had mentioned they had been forced to fix this place.
“From burned ash,” Zander notes with a hint of nostalgia in his expression. “Was hard as fuck. Took loads of money. No one would help us. Such a pain in the ass. Had to be done, though.”
“Was a must,” Ares agrees as he reaches over to grab his cup of steaming hot tea. “We had to set the record straight and prove our worth.” He pauses to take a sip. “We did exactly that.”
The slam against the breakfast table forces all three of us to look at Domino.
“She doesn’t need to know shit about our past,” he snarls. “Stop treating her like she’s someone we need to spoil and pamper. She’s only a decoy for the little spoiled princess hiding in Prescott’s massive castle, waiting for time to run the fuck out.”
I frown at his words, noticing how Zander’s gleeful expression fades.
As if the reminder is suddenly breaking whatever bubble of happiness he was enjoying.
“Thank you, Zander.” I draw his attention to me, which makes it easier to lean over and kiss him with appreciation.“Thank you for going out of your way to get me a dessert that’s good for me. I appreciate it.” Taking the dessert, I place it before me and then turn to Ares’ way.
“Thank you, Ares,” I begin and smirk. “For the green smoothie.”
“Where’s my kiss?” he wonders with an arched eyebrow.
“I feel like if I kiss you, it’ll destroy this layer of perfection.” I gesture at his entire look. “Like one kiss and poof. You’ll be an ugly King who isn’t even ruthless. The irony.”
The way I cringe has him huffing in dismay as he rolls his eyes at me.
“Overdramatic Canary.”
“You’re calling me overdramatic when you just rolled your eyes at me!” I gasp at the insult and point my fork his way. “You best be careful, Mr. Albrecht. I have a fork!”
“Shocker.” He purposely picks up his knife. “And I have a knife.”
“I have a gun!” Zander cheers, forcing us to look at him showing off his gun, which I realize is the same color as his…eeeer barbells.
“That’s…” I have to pause, and he fucking knows why I’m becoming flushed in the face.
“Like it? New chrome shifting metallic. Don’t ask about specs. I don’t know shit.” He meets my gaze with a knowledgeable one. “The color is very hard to get.”
“No shit,” I mutter. “Hmph. Isn’t better than my pink one.”
“You have a pink gun?” Ares questions.
