AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I see you’re both doing well, attached, on cloud nine, and sexy as hell.” His gaze lands on Liam with those last words, and my anchor morphs into a hostile shield.
“Reunion’s over, asshole. Go,” Liam barks, hand gripping the gun at his hip.
Pruitt laughs the warning off, addressing me with feigned compassion while maintaining his distance. “You been good? Better?”
“Yeah,” I say, uncomfortable by so many aspects of this catching-up. I don’t like him, but it’s hard to utterly hate someone when you know their deepest wounds. “I’m good.”
The elevator dings, and Axel and Ryker swagger off, lasering their gaze at Pruitt.
“You’ve overstayed your unwelcome visit,” Ryker spits with an icy glare.
“It seems I have.” Pruitt winks like the vain son of a bitch he is. “Tell Jax and Rena I said I’m sorry I missed them, coz.” Turning back to me, he licks his lips with a groan. “Enjoy your time, Cee.”
Before he’s even walked away, Wells hisses, “What the fuck was that, Axel?”
“An unexpected family affair arose at the last minute,” Axel explains. “Bernard alerted us he was bothering you. My apologies. Come on up. There won’t be any other interruptions.”
We all pile into the elevator, Liam glued to me with a renewed proprietorial clutching. Then again, all the guys seem possessive and agitated. Not a great start to the evening.
“Last name,” Wells demands, eyes piercing Axel, Ryker, and me.
“Lancaster,” Axel replies smoothly.
Wells presses Ivy closer, curling himself around her protectively. “Was he inside your residence?”
“No. The conference room on the entertainment floor,” Axel supplies. Looks like he’s the only one in the elevator not breaking a sweat. Although, from what I saw last July, I think that’s just how he carries himself. “He came across some information he felt compelled to share with us,” he adds.
“I knew I sensed he was up to something,” Ivy says, rolling her lips in.
Liam’s breathing picks up. “What type of information?”
“Sensitive. We can’t discuss it now.” Ryker’s jaw is steel, his spine wooden. Pruitt obviously rubbed him the wrong way. “It’s not news to us, but his knowledge of it is.”
“He’s a relative though?” Gage asks, dubious brow arched.
“Distant,” Axel answers. “We’ll revisit this at a later date.” That effectively severs the discussion, but not the tension.
Ty shifts his eyes between Ivy and me. “You girls okay?”
I flap a hand, really wanting to avoid any journey down memory lane involving Pruitt Lancaster. “Unfortunately, he’s the epitome of the private-school, silver-spoon egos we grew up with.”
Ivy laughs. “That’s accurate. Far too many egos.”
The elevator opens directly before their door. We file into the suite and are instantly greeted by Rena and the three younger Noires, all various shades of trouble.
While Axel and Ryker sport suits, charm, and a chiseled edge, the rest of the family boasts self-expression. Jax has blue hair, highlighting the dark blue rims on his golden-brown eyes, gauges in his stretched piercings, and colored tattoos. Maddox has wintry-gray eyes, messy onyx-black hair, and black tattoos all over his pale skin, even his fingers. Cash is less extreme—tousled blond hair, complementing his baby blues, and a few less tattoos. His menacing smile is what sets him apart. No question he’s a miscreant, shoving anyone within reach to the depths of Hell. Although I suspect the fall from grace would be the trip of a lifetime.
And last, but far from least, there’s Rena, the gothic-punk Noire princess.
Their sprawling penthouse is impressive in its Art Deco ambience—modern touches blending with priceless nostalgia. Axel pours us each a drink and guides us on a partial tour—a grand kitchen and family room, movie room, weight room, sauna, game room, and a rooftop pool and lounge area, which is a new addition.
Rena pulls Ivy and me into her bedroom—every bit of the punk-princess aesthetic I anticipated. Magenta and black, a massive mirror framed in shimmery gold, a black-and-crystal chandelier, and vinyl records, vintage banjos, and guitars on display. That’s not even touching the closet, which is as massive as her bedroom space, lined with endless shelves of shoes and cozy with plush black-and-white checkered couches.
Spoiled but smothered.
Loved but locked down.
A privileged prison is still a shackling.
