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“That’s nothing, you fool,” Eli cries out. “You could probably get at least 10 mil for Zac and me and if you really held out, Renz is worth over 100.” Grunting, I shoot a scathing look at Eli. Christ, good thing John is about to die. That’s not the kind of shit you want spreading around.
The low price on us tells me everything I need to know. John may not be aware of who is directly after us but the fact that the payout is so minimal means that it cannot be any of the big players. It doesn’t fully rule out Diaz. If he is used to working with unskilled men, then he must not like to spend his money unnecessarily.
Why pay someone millions when you have fools like this to do it for less?
Sighing, I glance once more at Renz, a silent request passing between us. He nods once, knowing we’re not likely to glean any more information from John. He’s a nobody. Bottom of the totem pole. A grunt.
That doesn’t mean I can’t try though.
Smiling, I look back to John and raise the sharpened peeler in my hand, granting him a good look. His eyes narrow in confusion but one quick swipe across his thigh quickly answers all of his questions.
Let’s find out if John has any more secrets.
Time to play, little bug.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Thenextmorning,orafternoon more likely, I wake up alone but surprisingly comfortable, curled up on the worn leather couch in the library. The fireplace is still going, making the room warm and inviting. My face curves into a slow smile as I remember where I am and then quickly dissolves as the events of last night come rushing back.
Eli showing up. Hooking up with Eli. Following him. The car crash. The blood. Joe.
I shoot up, barely catching myself before I fall off the couch. Is Joe okay? Did he die? I may not know him, but he seemed like a good enough man. When I’d first found him, his main concern was Eli’s safety, though, that could have just been because he’s employed by Eli and the guys.
The guys.
God, Renz had been so angry with me last night. No, more than that. He was downright disrespectful. Though, I suppose if I played Devils Advocate, I could imagine that my showing up so randomly while they were clearly in the middle of a crisis probably wasn’t the best of ideas. Regardless, he didn’t need to be such an ass. Chuckling, I replay the lovely memory of dick punching both him and Eli. It may not have been the most mature thing I could have done, but it sure felt great.
Sighing, I stretch my arms over my head as I get up. My body is sore and I’m not sure if it’s from sleeping on a couch or because of the awful adrenaline and anxiety hang-over I’m currently sporting. Probably both.
As I look around the vast space of the library, something inside of me warms. Based on what Eli had mentioned about reading yesterday, this space must belong to Renz. He’d said that books weren’t his thing, but that Renz loved them. Honestly, I can’t say that it truly surprises me. That night we’d spent together, I got to know a deeper side of Renz. He’s compassionate, thoughtful, and incredibly intelligent.
Despite what Eli said, anyone can find enjoyment in books but not everyone finds solace in them. I suspect that with a collection like this, Renz probably does, as do I.
The library, while white, like the rest of the penthouse, is warm and inviting. There are various Persian-styled rugs in rich reds, blues, and greens, that overlap one another. The worn brown leather couch that sits across from the fireplace looks old and well-loved. On either side of the couch are two black suede armchairs that are big enough to curl up in.
Off in one of the far corners, next to a row of windows, sits the comfiest looking vintage chaise lounge. It’s a rich royal blue velvet with tufts along the back. A small side table with a reading lamp sits next to it. On top, an old coffee cup is placed next to a book and for some reason, that small detail has me melting. Renz uses this space, a lot, I would guess. From what I’ve seen so far, it’s the only room in the entire penthouse that looks and feels lived in.
The room is beautiful, but the part that has me wanting to curl up and move in is the books. The bookshelves are obviously custom built as they line every single available wall, even bracketing the windows and fireplace. They are a rich mahogany that pops next to the stark white paint and on every single shelf, there are books. Hundreds and hundreds of books.
As I begin to explore, I can’t help the awe that fills me. Everything from Neoclassical, to Historical fiction, to Fantasy. There are first editions, signed copies, books that should quite frankly be in glass cases, and even a complete set of the encyclopedia. He has multiple versions of the Bible sitting across from Stephen King. The more I scan, the further in love I fall.
With the library, of course.
I don’t know how long I spend touching and devouring his collection. I find it easy to lose myself when I'm around books. At some point, I must have become so thoroughly immersed that I don’t notice I’m not alone until someone clears their throat behind me. Gasping, I almost drop the copy ofThe Lord of The RingsI’d been skimming as I spin to face the intruder.
No, Violet, you are the intruder,I silently chastise.
LIGHTSWITCH-RAIN PARIS
“Good afternoon,” Renz murmurs. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth and I squeeze the book in my arms as I allow my eyes to devour him.
Today, he’s dressed comfortably in tight dark wash jeans and a long sleeve black shirt that has a few simple undone buttons at the collar, exposing his neck and clavicle. None of the goods are showing and I can barely even see his skin from here, yet that small peak at what’s beneath has my heart racing. Goddamn, he is delicious.
His hair is mussed and slightly damp as though he just jumped out of the shower and ran his fingers through it a few times. He’s barefoot, and for some reason, that tiny detail has my thighs clenching. He looks…. casual.
What is it about seeing a man undone and comfortable that is so attractive?
“Like what you see?” he drawls in a somewhat cocky tone, though I can hear the humor beneath it. My eyes snap up to his when I realize I’ve been staring at his feet for who knows how long.
