Series: Cobalt Empire Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 234
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 226965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1135(@200wpm)___ 908(@250wpm)___ 757(@300wpm)
“You’ve gotta go in the water, turtle!” He grunts as I writhe against his hold. He pins me harder on his shoulder. “I’m saving you!”
“Water! Water! Water!” People chant around the pool.
“No, no!” I shriek so loudly, so furiously, my throat sears. As he prepares to launch me into the pool, I scream bloody murder. “LET ME DOWN!” Fear guts me. “LETMEDOWN!” I can’t see beyond the hot glassy film in my eyes.
I just hear a strong, commanding voice. “HEY! Let go of her! What the hell are you doing?!!”
I feel the tug around my waist from behind. Someone is ripping me out of Cameron’s rower arms. Someone is setting me gently on my feet. Someone is letting go of me.
As soon as I spin around to see who, I’m thunderstruck at the sight of him. I stumble back a step, breath caught deeper in my lungs. I have to crane my neck just to meet his carved jawline.
Fury flexes his cut muscles, his athletic body. He’s sky-scraping tall. Taller than most students here. His wavy brown hair peeks beneath a faded blue baseball cap. No one wears a ballcap as attractively as he does—with this rugged sexiness that shouldn’t exist in New York. It should look so out of place, but he doesn’t.
He just fits.
He seems to always fit among people. And there is something so devastating about his blue eyes, about the way he looks at you. Like you’re his whole…entire…world when I know it’s not true.
His world is massive and illustrious.
I’m small and dull inside it.
My eyes drop to his chest. He’s in an old Penn Hockey shirt, even though we’re not at the Ivy League anymore. And didn’t he quit hockey?
“Is that Ben Cobalt?” I hear the whispers.
“Holy shit, that’s a Cobalt.”
“Ben!” someone calls out in familiarity.
“Hey, there you are, Ben,” Cameron says brightly like they’re buddies. “You should stick around us, man. The party’s right here.”
Ben is ignoring them and staring right at me. He’s sweeping me for signs of damage. “You want out of here?” he asks me.
Yes.
I still can’t slow my pulse. I can barely form a single word. A lump swells in my esophagus. I sense Cameron coming up behind me. I flinch, and Ben reaches out and shoves him backward.
“Get the fuck away from her,” Ben warns with visceral heat.
I don’t wait around. I bolt on instinct and race back inside the frat house. My heartbeat pounds in my ears.
“Harriet!” Ben calls after me, and I feel him desert the party and his surplus of friends. He sprints after me. I’ve never had anyone come check on me for anything good.
I’m not thinking. I rush up the flight of wide stairs littered with beer bottles and ping-pong balls. I land on the second floor and quickly find a bathroom. Once I’m inside, I slam the door shut.
Breathing heavy, I keep my palms glued to the wood.
“Hey,” Ben says from right outside the door. It’s unlocked, but he doesn’t come in. I feel a weight against the door, and I imagine his palms are on the other side. That he’s pressing against it too.
I let out a slow breath, starting to ease. “Hey,” I say, trying to make sense of the weird flip of my stomach and the even stranger tug at my lips. Am I…am I smiling?
I shake my head to myself. What the hell, Harriet?
I blink back the jumbled emotion. I never thought my messed-up life would collide with a Cobalt.
Really, this Cobalt.
There are five brothers and two sisters and a mom and dad any kid would dream of having—a tight-knit family who go to battle for each other. And they’re rich.
Blue-blooded, high society Philadelphians who might as well be New Yorkers with how often they’re in this city. They have McMansions, private jets, yachts, and trust funds, all the things that come with owning the world’s most popular soda corporation.
But they are so much more than the typical billionaire.
They have bodyguards.
They have millions of followers on their socials.
There are Reddit forums and fandom pages on Fanaticon dedicated to them. Fans follow their every move and theorize what they’re doing at every minute of every day.
Their names are as commonplace as the most recognizable actors and pop stars of our generation. Yet, they’re not in movies and they’re not known for charting the Billboard Hot 100. Their fame has an origin so deep-seated in the fabric of American society that most have forgotten how they became noteworthy in the first place.
They should’ve just been like every other billionaire who owns Fortune 500 companies. Like the faces behind Pepsi and Coca-Cola. They should be irrelevant. But that’s about the last thing you can say about a Cobalt.
None are irrelevant.
All of them matter as pillars of elegance and intelligence and power. That is the mythos of the Cobalt Empire.