I remove the towel around my shoulders and place it on a bench before joining him on one of the other treadmills. “It disappoints me sometimes how much of a simpleton you are, Nathaniel.”
“Says you, the man who defied the Exodus and forced a chick into marriage like a caveman.”
“I didn’t force her. I merely bargained.”
Sinclair laughs. “It was a hostile takeover, if I’ve ever seen one. How is the stunning bride this morning?”
“Call my wife stunning again, and I’ll remove your crown jewels and personally return them to the King of England.”
“Where’s my friend, and what have you done to him?” He chucks me on the shoulder, but I’m not impressed. “Seriously, how did it go last night?”
I turn up the speed. “Well, I had to strong-arm her home, and then she spent the next hour ripping out the brand new clothes and accessories I had express delivered to our home and tossing them on the floor. I’m sure she stomped on them too. Ungrateful, if you ask me, after the staff hauled ass out of hours to hand delivereverythingin her size.”
“Wow.” He snickers, covered in sweat. “You sure have a way with the ladies.”
“What I have,” I pause to correct, “is leverage. Mrs. Delacroix cares awfully much about her friend.”
“Blackmail. I dig it.”
I roll my eyes, jogging now. My heart remains steady. I’m bored, so I check the time on the machine. Another twelve minutes and twenty-two seconds until I can move on to my strict weight routine.
“Is this your revenge plan, then? Imprison Mr. van der Meer’s daughter against her will and keep her identity a secret from the Exodus?”
“Amongst other things.”
“Such as?” He swipes for his towel and wipes his sweaty face, then throws it at me.
It slaps me on the side of the face and then falls to the floor with a wet plop. If I could get away with killing my best friend, now would be the time. I glare at him, but he’s unfazed, whacking the treadmill up to dangerous speeds.
If he’s not careful, he’ll shoot off into space like a comet, and I imagine the machine falling to pieces beneath his heavy weight, like the car inThe Mask.
“By the time I’m done with Mr. van der Meer,” I respond, “there will be nothing left for him to salvage if he ever sees daylight again—which he won’t, by the way.”
Sinclair’s face falls, and he sprints until sweat drips from his pores before switching off the treadmill and heading to the weights. I’m still jogging. Another six minutes and thirteen seconds.
What is Cecilia doing now?The last time I checked the surveillance camera, she was searching every inch of her new cage—her luxurious bedroom—for weapons or something to break down the door. God only knows what goes through her pretty head, but I’m not stupid enough to let her into my own space. She’ll kill me the moment I close my eyes.
“Word of advice now that you’re a pussy-whipped man,” Sinclair says as he flexes his muscles in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. “We need to discuss her father.”
“I’m not pussy-whipped,” I reply with a heavy sigh.
“Yeah, keep lying to yourself.”
When I speed up the treadmill to drown him out, he says, “You know I’m right. We need to have this discussion. You can’t avoid it forever. She’ll kill you if she finds out.”
“She won’t find out. And she’ll kill me anyway.”
“I like her already,” he says, his shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter. He selects dumbbells while I sprint like I can outrun my new obsession, a feisty heiress with a Venus trap for a pussy. When the machine finally slows down, Sinclair eyes me through the mirror. “While I’m worried about the potential fallout, I think she could be good for you.”
“Not only are you simpleton, but you’re delusional too.” I step off the treadmill and wipe my face with my towel. “It’s a business transaction. I give her my name. She gives me her family fortune and legacy for me to burn to the ground.”
Focusing on his bulging biceps, he lifts the weights, and I curl my lip. “Why do you always have to sound like you fuck when you work out.”
“Unless your prude ass hasn’t noticed,” he says, grunting, “fucking is a form of cardio.”
I select my own dumbbells. “Why do you think she could be good for me?”
Why am I even asking? I plan on spending as little time with her as possible. I’m certainly not curious about Nathaniel Sinclair’s opinion.
