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Was my admirer watching us? If he was, would he be jealous enough to show himself tonight? Unfortunately, that thought alone had me itching to provoke the stranger.

Still, I tensed my jaw and stared up at Manic. “It’s not like we own Vancouver. If anything, your family has more sway than anyone else here. Besides, I have no intention of taking over if that’s what you’re hinting at.”

The reality that my father’s casinos would never be mine stuck like a thorn in my heart. If he wouldn’t even allow me within their walls, I had little reason to believe he’d trust me to run them. Which was why I was leaving. My father didn’t trust me.

Manic laughed this time, a hint of irony in his tone, and ordered another drink. “That would definitely be interesting to see if you did.”

My nostrils flared. “You know, you do an exquisite job of pissing me off every time I see you, and I have no interest in having the rest of my night ruined. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d rather be anywhere else than standing here with you.”

I turned sharply, but he gripped my elbow, forcing my gaze on him again. As a huff escaped my nose, that same rueful smile played on his lips. Despite myself, my stomach dipped as his fingers seamlessly wrapped around my arm. He gently squeezed before releasing me.

“I apologize.” He scanned the room before his gaze fell to me again. “All these years of attending our… galas, and you’ve never been given a tour. Have you?”

My eyes narrowed.

“I’m not fucking you,” I bit out, even though curiosity shot up my chest. I wondered what it would be like to be pinned beneath him. Perhaps it could be fun, if he learned to keep his mouth shut long enough for me to enjoy it.

“As much as that intrigues me, I have no intention of cornering you to fuck me.”

“Get me drunk then?”

“Or that.” He chuckled and reached for his drink on the bar. It clinked in his grasp as he faced me again. “In fact, you wouldn’t need any of those things to happen to come crawling into my lap, now would you? But there’s a room I’d like to show you…” He tilted his head. “It has books.”

Books? Christ, he got me there—I love books.

And as much as I wanted to tell Manic to fuck off, books intrigued me. What kind of books? Hard cover or soft bound? Special editions? Were they intricately crafted stories or texts of history? Surely anything the Mortaines had wasn’t anything I’d be interested in, but…

If I’d been allowed to choose my major, I would have opted for library science, not math. It was why I had applied for a job at the library cities away. Did Manic know that about me, or was it a lucky guess?

I sighed. “I’ll agree to the tour if it’ll make you shut up.”

“Has anyone ever told you how utterly divine you are when you wield that sharp tongue of yours?” Manic asked, but led me across the ballroom with a hand on my back.

Despite his irritating remarks and the urge to punch him, a tiny flutter of anxious curiosity settled in my gut at the thought of being alone with him.

I instinctively shot one last glance to my parents, ensuring they were distracted. I was positive I’d receive a delightfully snappy text from my mother soon. Either way, I escaped their view as we slipped into another corridor.

4

SUTTON

If someone had told me that Manic Mortaine would be the one to give me a tour of their ridiculous mansion, I would have scoffed and stormed away. Granted, I’d been curious to see the rest of its luxury outside of the ballroom.

And yet, this tour had done nothing but confirm how absurd the mansion was as I swept my gaze over the wide, elaborate corridor surrounding the entire thing. To my surprise, I’d been met with silence as I carefully studied the architecture, drinking it in.

Manic had, in fact, shut up.

Dark marble lined the floors, and gilded frames lined the walls—opposite from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the courtyard. Lamp posts were spread throughout the gardens, winding down the path toward what appeared to be an oversized in-ground pool. Light danced over the pruned-squared bushes as the wind blew.

It was mesmerizing.

It was ridiculous.

“What do you do with a place this large?” I murmured, mostly to myself as Manic walked quietly beside me, hands in his pockets.

“Throw parties… clearly.”

Of course, because why wouldn’t it be used for that? My parent’s estate was quite large—grand in its own way—but nothing like this.