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Some asshole in front of me slammed on his brakes, thanks to a crowd of jaywalkers. I didn’t blow my horn. This was NYC. No one gave a fuck about crosswalk countdowns. They crossed the street whenever the fuck they felt like it. They were lucky I wasn’t the first car because I wasn’t the kind of guy who slammed on his brakes for careless pedestrians.
“Remember that thing I emailed you about?”
“Yeah, with the senator.”
Lincoln wanted his father to go down, and this was my way of making sure it happened.
“Take care of it and we’ll call it even.”
Another long gust of air. Then silence.
Then, “Consider it done.”
“Good talk, John. Have a great day.”
Three city blocks later, I was pulling into the parking garage of my apartment building. I called it an apartment. It was really the penthouse. Caspian left it to me when he and Tatum decided to fake their deaths and move to a tropical island. I wasn’t one for hand-outs, but no man in his right mind would turn down a no-strings-attached address in Hudson Yards.
“Everything good?” I asked the security guard who stood by the elevator that went directly to my penthouse.
“Yes, sir. No one in or out since Mr. Van Doren left.”
I clapped him on the shoulder as I stepped inside the open elevator. “You’re doing great, man. Keep up the good work.” It was sarcastic and I was a dick.
I punched in my code and watched as the numbers flashed all the way to the twenty-first floor. I spotted her the moment the steel doors slid open, giving me a broad view of my living room.
Her dark hair fell down her back in long waves. The thin strap of her navy-blue dress had fallen down off one shoulder, making it obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. She was standing with her back to me as she looked out the window over the city. Her long legs spilled out from her too-short dress, and she was barefoot.
She was temptation wrapped in creamy white skin, dipped in blue silk, and topped off with plump red lips.
Of all the people to trust her with, they chose me.
Fucking idiots.
She turned around, slowly, purposefully—not in a rushed, worried way a normal person would spin around at the sound of someone entering the room. This was more like she’d been expecting me, waiting even.
Long lashes framed her brown eyes. Her full lips formed a perfect pout.
I met her gaze and smiled. “Hello, Princess.”
