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I’m out of my three-piece suit and into red swim trunks lazing beside the pool while I take advantage of the small lull between meetings. My days mostly consist of networking with local officials, busy working on building up the legal business side of the Sin Eaters. This typically means supplying weed to dispensaries, tax breaks for our bars and businesses, and most importantly getting my puppets instated right where I want them.
He hands me a tumbler full of mezcal with a smirk and I snap it out of his grasp with a huff.
“Are you going to ask me that every time you see me?” I bite out.
“I’m never satisfied with the answer,” he says, sitting beside me dressed in all black, boots included.
I glare at him but say nothing more. Draining the glass of its contents, I talk myself out of smashing it against his skull, changing the subject before I actually do.
“Saw little miss sunshine today,” I say while leaning back into the sun, referring to his girlfriend’s namesake.
“Yeah, she told me,” he answers distractedly, looking into the distance, swiping a tattooed hand over his shaved head. A tell that his mind is somewhere else.
“Little missnot sosunshine was also there,” I add with slight amusement.
Byzantine chuckles, stretching his body on the deck chair, closing his eyes, a lopsided grin appearing on his lips. “I know.” He reaches for his whiskey and takes a sip before continuing, “You were at each other’s throat again?”
“Hardly… I just find it amusing to rile her up, it’s just so — easy,” I say absently as I look for the joint I rolled earlier. Finding it near the ashtray, I pop it between my lips and light it up, taking in a lungful, my muscles relaxing almost immediately.
“You two got along so well at the beginning,” he muses.
“And?”
“And remember what you told Bastian when he asked if you two were fucking?” My adrenaline spikes but I say nothing, simply taking another hit of the joint. When I don’t answer, Byzantine answers for me. “You denied it. Said she’d hate you by now if you were.’”
My nostrils flare, questioning if I should just kill him so he can shut the fuck up already. Effective. A bit inconvenient.
“Get to the point,” I say through clenched teeth.
“Well, looks like she finally hates your guts,” he says with a laugh, his eyes still closed against the sun. “Not hard to put two and two together, brother.”
“Trust me, that’s not why,” I reply slyly.
Well, it might have a little to do with it but it’s far from the reason why she can no longer stand the sight of me. I can’t help my shit-eating grin, a sick thrill traveling through me, knowing full well why she hates me, andfuckdoes it turn me the fuck on.
Is it a little sadistic? Maybe. Fuck knows I’m not a great judge of character for those things. Has it kept me entertained for over two years now? Absolutely.
“Anyway,” Byzantine mutters, standing up. “Not my business, nor do I really care.”
“So why the fuck did you bring it up?”
“Because I know Sunny is dying to know and well…”
“And she’s got you thoroughly whipped?”
“Happily so,” he says while walking away. “I’ll see you later, Ron Jeremy.”
The glass I fling in his general direction shatters against the wall near the sliding doors. Byzantine doesn’t even flinch, barking out a laugh, and disappearing into the house.
Chapter 5
Closingmyapartmentdoorbehind me, I kick off my heels with a satisfied sigh, sliding my feet into pink furry slides and shuffling into the kitchen. Ewan, my orange tabby cat, trails behind me, chirping to be fed.
I moved into this place about a year ago. At twenty-nine, it’s my first time living on my own without any roommates, and I didn’t realize how much I would enjoy it. Most importantly, how much I’d love decorating it to my own taste. Everywhere I look, it screams Lenix—like my pink couch, which is my prized possession. Some might call it tacky or gauche, but I would just call them boring.
Byzantine got me a sweet deal in the downtown condo building he used to live in before he met Sunny. Now they live in Garden Heights, an affluent neighborhood, close to Connor’s mansion. I have a sneaking suspicion he pulled more than a few strings to get me this place but I must admit, I didn’t ask a lot of questions. And I’m certainly not complaining if it landed me with this view.
I pour myself a glass of rosé and feed Ewan before he disowns me altogether. I slide the patio door open and step onto the balcony. My condo faces the ocean, as well as the sunset, the sun now dipping low on the horizon. Sitting down, I let out a long satisfied sigh, my eyes captured by the water reflecting the glowing rays.
