If this is a trick to sell me extended car insurance, it’s not working.
Seb:
Damn. And here I was gonna pitch my crypto scheme next.
I laugh so hard I snort into the mic, and his deep chuckle fills my ears again. God, I love that sound.
“Guess I’ll let you go,” he says after a while. “You’ve got school tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah. Valentine’s crafts with twenty sugar-high five-year-olds. Pray for me.”
“Always,” he murmurs.
I sign off, cheeks sore from smiling. My phone lights up again almost immediately:
Seb:
Sweet dreams, little bee. Don’t let the trolls bite.
I don’t even pretend not to grin this time. I type back,
You too, Seb. Don’t go rescuing anyone without me.
I put the phone on my nightstand, crawl into bed, and stare at the dark ceiling for a long time, grinning like an idiot.
4
ETHAN
Putting a camera into Barbara’s shower? Best. Decision. Ever. I barely just caught my breath when she accepted the voice conversation yesterday. Panting in her ear like a pervert wouldn’t do. Even though Iama pervert as far as she’s concerned. A fucking sexual maniac. I can’t seem to take my mitts off my dick whenever I see her, hear her, or—fuck it—even just think about her.
I adjust myself, moving my ass in the normally comfortable chair like I’m sitting on rocks in the desert.
“What’s with you, man?” Killian asks me, throwing me a mildly disgusted look as he hovers above me with his arms crossed—the normal Cross stance. Did he catch me with my hands on my boner? He tilts his chin at my lap. “Is there something I should know?”Yep. Definitely saw.
“Don’t worry, it’s neither you nor this Black Ash fucker,” I mutter, my eyes on the file I pulled up.
Adrian Wen Zhao. Thirty-one. Chinese-British. Raised in Kensington by a venture-capital father and an art-collector mother. Educated at Eton and Oxford.
“Guy’s spotless on paper,” I say. “Philanthropy, art expos, a charity foundation that smells like money laundering.”
“And is he their fucking leader?” Killian asks in a tone that makes me look up. If eyes could kill, Cross wouldn’t need his sniper rifle.
“Definitely high up,” I reply. “And judging by the flight logs, he was here right around the time Kovalenko took your Emily.”
The growl that comes out of my brother’s chest would make Zhao piss himself if he heard it. “Let me know when he’s Stateside again.”
I raise my eyebrow and make my voice sound as calm as possible. “You’re getting married, and I hope you’ll be taking your bride on a nice, long honeymoon after.”
“Emily isn’t safe as long as he’s alive to run Black Ash. Barbara isn’t safe either.”
I blink up at him. “You know?” I ask tonelessly, waiting to see if I’ll get ripped a new asshole for stalking his fiancée’s BFF.
“I suspected. Now I’m sure.” He gives me a smile that would make a snake proud with its cold-blooded intensity. “Upset Emily, especially this close to the wedding, and you’ll be eating through a straw.”
“I’m going to keep hersafe,” I emphasize with a grumble. I feel like a child scolded by their pops.
“Be a hell of a lot safer once Zhao’s gone,” he says darkly before leaving with a muttered, “Later, dumbass.”
