Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Ivy steps to the side, letting the man in, but we’re both suspicious. We were raised to sit on the edge of caution considering the world our parents are in, which is also why we’re both blackbelts in karate.
The man leaves the rack with the garments behind, and Ivy closes the door behind him. She opens the envelope as I finally stand. She turns the piece of paper back and forth. “No note, just a list of the items and no prices. You been holding out with a secret admirer or something?”
I open the first bag, and my jaw drops. It’s my favorite jacket. But not in the same color. I snatch the list out of her hand. It tells me nothing. I know these jackets are easily $15,000 each, and I got mine on sale for $10,000. I open each bag—eight in total—revealing the same jacket in every fucking color.
“Aren’t these the same as that one jacket you like so much?” Ivy asks inquisitively. “If you want, I can do some hacking and figure out who sent them.”
“No, it’s fine.” I dismiss her quickly, biting my bottom lip. “Maybe I drunkenly ordered these last night and forgot.”
Except I know I didn’t.
She laughs hysterically. “Fuck. It’s like when we went to Rome, and you accidentally ordered those fifty pizzas to our room instead of five. We were eating pizza for days.”
I grumble about her sharp memory.
Holy fuck. Did Ford buy me a jacket in every color because I lost mine?
No.
No?
No.
He wouldn’t. We’re just fuck buddies, after all.
Right?
CHAPTER 12
Billie
Istand at the party, wearing a tight green dress and a necklace made of small pearls. My hair is twisted in an elegant updo with a few loose curls around my face. I laugh and jest with a group of people while simultaneously taking note of every person who walks through the door.
The event is for the very wealthy and elite, and our families come to see and be seen. Even Anya and River are here, which is rare, simply because Anya doesn’t like people. So if she comes to one of these events, there’s often something in it for her—most likely jewelry of some kind.
The fact that they’re both here also means their sons might be, too. And since they’re often wherever Eli is, and he and Jewel just arrived, it leads me to believe that Ford is probably somewhere close by.
I’m cautious as to who I talk to. If any unknown man attempts to speak to me, my brother will cross the room within seconds and break their hand. It’s something that’s happened on more than one occasion. That, and most of the people here, are disingenuous. The number of people who have tried to use me to get in favor with my father or brother is mind-boggling.
My mother also has a distaste for these types of events. I find her across the room, and I admire how beautiful she looks, standing by my father’s side, nodding politely at a woman who has been rambling on for the past five minutes.
She told me she was once the perfect example of poise and personality at every event, but after meeting my father, she removed that expectation from herself. However, she still occasionally attends considering that her company caters most of the events.
Alina and Will Walker rescue my mother and father from the conversation they were having as Ivy stops beside me, looking elegant in her long black dress. She hands me a glass of champagne. Nausea swirls in my gut as I’m still not entirely recovered from my hangover.
She scans the room, most likely looking to see if anyone fits her type.
Ivy is selective as to the events she attends, so I ask, “What made you want to come tonight?”
“I had nothing better to do,” she replies with an eye roll. She continues talking about finding a hunk tonight, but we both know she isn’t going to find one in this pompous circle. My gaze diverts to the door the moment Ford walks in, his brother entering right behind him.
Butterflies take off in my stomach as I watch them.
Watch him.
He’s absolutely stunning when he’s dressed in something other than jeans. He’s wearing slacks, and he’s paired them with a long-sleeved shirt buttoned up high enough to cover his neck tattoo. And he’s freshly shaven.
Fuck me.
Bend me over right now and take me.
I inwardly slap myself. Drooling much?
“So I killed him.” I whip my attention back to Ivy, who’s smiling at me. “You weren’t listening to a thing I said, were you?”
“I’m sorry. I thought I saw someone I know,” I quickly say, trying to cover the fact that I was staring at Ford. Ivy’s perceptive, and the last thing I need is her investigating any further into me and Ford, especially since we’ve already been caught twice before.