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)
But there were times I wished Beckett were my dad.
Then he married ballet, and he left home at sixteen to be with the love of his life. Dance. He was trained in a prestigious conservatory, then accepted to the New York Ballet Company. It’s the best in America. He’s a principal dancer, and people who’ve never seen him perform might think he got handed it because of his last name.
But once you see him on stage, the truth is palpable.
He landed the coveted title on pure talent. He is grace and beauty, and according to ballet critics, his technique is unmatched.
I can’t take him away from that—not for something as temporary as me crashing at his apartment for…for hopefully not that long.
I’m not just living with Beckett. All four of my older brothers share a four-bedroom apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. I was twelve the last time we all lived under one roof, and I can’t see how it won’t cave in if I’m there for more than a few weeks.
So yeah, this has to be temporary.
I’m not trying to make their lives harder. It’s bad enough they feel the need to scoop me up like I flew too close to the sun and melted my wings.
I hear muffled voices in the background of the call, and Beckett quickly says, “I have to go. We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Yeah,” I get in right before he hangs up, and I just really wish he weren’t the busiest of my brothers. Catching quality time with him is like ensnaring a bird.
The subway car rolls to a stop.
I sense a person hovering near my back. I barely glance over my shoulder to catch the brown eyes of my bodyguard.
Olive skin from his Italian-Croatian heritage, shaggy walnut-brown hair styled meticulously, khakis and a linen shirt. He blends in like an average thirtysomething living in the trendy parts of Brooklyn.
Chris Novak has been assigned to my detail since I was ten. He’s been unfortunate enough to be around for my two growth spurts. Shot up to six-foot in middle school and then wrecked my back with stretch marks in ninth grade when I climbed to six-foot-five. That was a real pissy year for me, and Novak heard most of my complaining.
“Next stop,” I tell him.
He gives me a short nod. His gaze has left mine and roams the cramped subway car. I know I don’t make his life easier. Could’ve hailed a cab. Could’ve done a lot of things differently. But even if I wasn’t penny-pinching right now, I’d still be trying to leave the world better than when I entered it. My carbon footprint matters to me, and I don’t give a shit what people think of me for it.
I check my texts.
As the subway car halts again, Novak follows me off the platform while I scroll and move. Usually, he’ll slip in front of me to clear a path, but people rush out and we both naturally walk with the flow.
My messages have blown up in the past three hours.
Santiago A.P. English Lit (Dalton Academy)
You’re moving to New York? Dude!
Rita Carraways Show
Heard you moved to NYC. Let’s grab drinks
Prescott Kappa Phi Delta (MVU)
Hey, Ben. Don’t forget to rush Kappa Phi.
I sift through another five sent from different people I’ve met over the years, and I smile when I come across a thread from thirty minutes ago. I click it and reread.
Harriet Fisher
We’re still meeting @ 3 for the job interview thing?
Ben Cobalt
I’ll meet you at the corner of 10th & 55th
Harriet Fisher
Chances of getting hired are low, but fuck it. What’s the worst that can happen?
Ben Cobalt
Positive thoughts, Fisher.
Harriet Fisher
That’s what you’re here for, Cobalt boy.
My smile grows, and I check the time on my phone.
It’s 10 a.m., and I have a canvas duffel bag strapped across my chest with my essentials. I wish I could fast-forward to three and just meet up with her now, but I can’t delay this move-in any longer.
It’s time to be with my brothers.
The thought is both comfort and tension. A paradox. And funny enough, my family loves those.
3
BEN COBALT
This isn’t some cheap apartment complex. It’s high-end and ritzy with a bellhop, entrance security, a member’s only club lounge, an infinity pool, steam room and sauna, and other luxury amenities. I’ve been here before, but never for this long of a stay.
The elevator dings, and I walk out onto the 21st floor. Yeah, I wouldn’t call this inviting. Ominous, maybe. The hallway has an eerie elegance with deep red walls, dim lighting, and gold fixtures. It’s like I’m stepping foot in The Shining. A potential bloodbath could occur.
And I know exactly which brother it’ll be with.
Blowing out a large breath, I shake out my arms, my muscles burning in hot bands before anything has even happened. I stare down the gold-plated 2166 apartment number on the dark wooden door. I’m not lacking in confidence.