Page 82 of Off Limits Mogul

“That’s none of your business, Phoebe Pedersen.” Arianne frowns her discontentment.

They’re talking as if I’m not in the room.

“He’s like a big brother,” I say. “And remember, I landed in LA without much.”

Phoebe shoots me a suspicious side gaze. “I can assure you, my brothers would never finance a shopping spree to the dollar store, let alone high-end designer shops. Had I landed somewhere in the world with nothing more than a backpack and the clothes on my back, my brothers would’ve recommended I hit thrift stores.”

I can’t help my laugh.

Phoebe is hilarious, and she has zero filters.

“You just don’t know when to quit, Phoebe.” Arianne moves her attention to me. “To answer the question that started this inappropriate line of questioning…” She glares at Phoebe.

Her best friend shrugs.

“I didn’t ask Beckett if Rhys was a member or not. I assumed he was since all the guys hang out together.”

That’s where he finds hisuncomplicatedhookups. Noted.

“I was curious.” I shrug, doing my best not to look affected.

“If I’m not allowed to ask about her relationship status with the billionaire mogul, can I at least ask about something intriguing I read online about him?” Phoebe narrows her eyes at Arianne.

“As long as it’s not a personal question,” Arianne says.

“Thank you, Mom.”

Phoebe’s mocking tone and facial expression crack me up.

She shifts her focus to me. “Is it true Rhys started rapping, and I quote,As a personal challenge to prove I was more thanmy dyslexia. It was a middle finger to the condition that robbed me of my confidence?”

“Oh yeah, I read about that as well,” Arianne says, a glint of curiosity shining in her eyes.

“Rap music was Rhys’s metaphoricalfuck youto his neurodivergent disorder,” I say. “He struggled with words. Rap music is a flurry of words coming at you in rapid succession. Mastering rap was his way of taking control.”

“Interesting perspective,” Arianne says.

“Unlike a book, he could memorize words of a rap song,” I say. “He’s still dyslexic—he’ll always be. It’s not a disorder he can ever change or get rid of, unlike his stuttering––”

“He used to stutter?” Arianne brings a hand up to cover her mouth. “Sorry I interrupted you.”

“My earliest memories of Rhys don’t include his stuttering, but according to my brother, it was pretty bad,” I say. “That’s how they became friends. Noah came to his rescue when two bullies were using Rhys’s face as a punching bag. Noah fought them off and then swore he’d look after a scrawny Rhys. Thanks to his mom’s crusade, Rhys gained control over the stuttering, but dyslexia is something he’ll have to deal with for life. Reading was always a challenge for him, something he hated because it reminded him he wasn’t like everyone else. To cope, he became a master at memorizing what he heard––from other people, the television, the radio, or music. When he discovered rap, it was like a whole new world opened up to him. He’d listen to the lyrics over and over and over again. When he discovered he shined at it, he started seeing himself in a new light. Noah said rap music changed him from an awkward shy guy to a bold, cocksure, and confident man. Even his stage name—Hijinks—reflected that cocky side of him that was hidden behind his insecurities.”

“What a story,” Phoebe says.

“Is Noah the same age as Rhys?”

“Yes, Arianne, they’re both thirty-one. They were ten years old when Noah became Rhys’s defender.”

“Ten?” Arianne’s eyes widen. “Isn’t that young to have the ability to fight off two bullies?”

“Noah was a beast-in-the-making from the womb. My big brother is six-seven.”

“That’s tall,” Arianne says.

“That’s a venti cup of goodness,” Phoebe says.

“Rhys’s stuttering and dyslexia made him an easy target. Noah taught him how to fight and defend himself for the times he wouldn’t be around. Thanks to my brother, he was able to go from a weak defenseless kid to a fearless warrior”