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I’ve already assumed Warren isn’t going to reply to me as he lays me back in bed. I feel a chilled cloth lay upon my forehead, giving me another round of relief at how sizzling hot my body feels from the inside out.
“I hope to make her my wife,” he repeats his younger brother’s words. “What do you think a possessive fucker who only gives a shit about himself and his fame would feel?”
“Envy,” I mutter the word. “But not jealous.”
“You don’t think you’re worthy of being jealous of?”
When he says it like that, I’m not sure.
“Are you jealous?”
I open my eyes halfway, just to see him hovering above me enough to lightly press his lips on mine. I could be hallucinating—maybe I am—but I wonder how Warren could enter the equation when there can only ever be three Ruthless Kings.
He’s an alumnus, so he can’t join all over again.
“A little.”
I smile at his quiet admission.
“Your honesty is much appreciated,” I whisper as my eyes close. “Warren, can you do me a favor?”
“Hmm?”
“I want you to get the blood records for me and Emma.” His silence proves he needs more information on why I’d request something rather intrusive. “Domino wants to set Ares up. As if Prescott isn’t a worthy empire to be matched with. To have analliance. I want written proof that Emma is Prescott's blood as the perfect ammo to flaunt to a sea of hungry wolves.”
“So you can match her with someone else?” He’s catching on.
“Mr. Prescott agreed to the original deal, knowing it would benefit me to clear my debt, yes?” I remind him just in case he’s forgotten. “He doesn’t actually want the favorite child to marry off a group of sickos. I think the intention Father has is for the Kings to abuse and get addicted to me enough that they won’t want Emma anymore. Who wants raw meat when they’ve enjoyed tasting well-done meat for three years?”
“You’re making sense despite the fever,” he notes. “But where would that leave Emma?”
“Match her up with someone else? I mean, she’s a Prescott. The family has power, connections, and fame across the world. They don’t lack money. I’m sure a few newer empires are looking for an arranged marriage that benefits them the most.” It sounds like a fighting chance that could be perfect for getting Ares off the hook permanently. “That Matteo guy isn’t married, is he? Could offer the opportunity there, even if it’s temporary. Make it a clause that doesn’t bind either of them after an X number of months.” It sounds brilliant to me, which is why I add one more thing.
“And they can’t have sex in that short period of time.”
“How soon do you want this made and approved?” Warren ponders.
“How soon can you get it done?”
“Five hours.”
“Do it.” That sounds perfect. “Now, give me some good news.”
“I feel like you know the answer to your question,” he mutters.
“I do, but I want to hear it and hope I’m not hallucinating.”
“Ares is off the contract,” Warren declares. “Already forwarded the update anonymously.”
“Update to who exactly?” I’m curious about that part.
“Barbieri,” he announces.
I open my eyes and try to find him in the darkness, but I feel his hand as he gently strokes my left cheek.
“You want this to go off with a bang, huh?”
“I want you out of this two-faced bastard’s clutches by tonight,” Warren grumbles.
