Page 8 of Ruined

To me, that seemed like a high price to pay for money and power. As far as I knew, my brother Asher wasn't a member. I wasn't sure about Dane, but if he could join, he would have.

"Misogyny is alive and well I see," I remarked.

"Running the world has to come at a price." He shrugged. "Would it be better to leave it to politicians?"

I snorted. "No, it would be better to leave it to women."

Gianni grinned. "When you become Queen of the world, can I wash your feet?"

I pretended to consider the matter. "I'll think about it. It depends who does it best: you, Damon or Reuben. Or maybe the twins."

Gianni chuckled. "Don't make me kill the twins to keep them from muscling in on my territory."

"The day I'd be interested in either of them…" I shook my head. "They're too young for me anyway."

"They're closer in age to you than you are to me," Gianni pointed out. "Or Reuben, or Damon."

"Just the way I like it," I said lightly. I glanced out the window as we taxied down the runway. "I've always preferred men who have their shit together."

"I've always had a thing for women who know how to use a knife," Gianni said. "Who don't let the world hold them back. Who stand on their own two feet. The opposite of the kind of women who fraternise with the Brotherhood. Although, every now and again, there'll be a firecracker. I'm mostly there for the parties and world domination."

"World domination does seem to be a good excuse to hang out and get drunk," I said.

"It's the best excuse," he said. "Let other people have good looks and fame, I prefer power and money. Or to be close to it."

"Who says you don't have good looks?" I asked. He'd said several times now that he was the brains or the brawn, while other men were the attractive ones.

"When I was born, my mother cried," he said. He gave me a lopsided grin.

"I don't believe that for a minute," I said. "I think you're cute." He wasn't as classically handsome as Reuben or Damon, but he had his own charm.

"That's the first time anyone has called me cute," he said. He placed his hands in his lap and cocked his head in contemplation. "I think I like it."

"I'm glad you do," I said. "But I'm sure you've been called that before."

"I tend to think that's a word that applies better to you, but we can share." He reached over to take my hand, his smile replaced by earnestness. "Can I confess something?"

My heart skipped a beat at his touch and the expression on his face. Was there a chance he knew what I was and was about to tell me? If it wasn't that, then when was it?

I forced myself to say, "Of course you can." I wasn't oblivious to the fact we were now in the air. He couldn't shoot me, but I couldn't run. Was I strong enough to defend myself against him if I needed to? I'd have to be, if it came down to that. What then? The pilot might have orders to take me to fuck knows where.

He took a deep breath and looked from side to side before locking his gaze back on mine.

"I hate flying," he admitted. "I know, big badass guy like me shouldn't be scared of anything. But we're a long fucking way up and it's a long fucking way down. I hate heights."

I pushed out a breath of relief and reminded myself to be sympathetic. I didn't need him to wonder why I was on the verge of freaking out. Although, the enclosed space around us was unnerving. I could always say it reminded me of the cage.

"There's nothing wrong with being scared of heights or flying," I said. "Everyone is scared of something. Heights, snakes, marshmallows."

He looked surprised, then grinned. "Marshmallows?"

"Yeah." I grimaced. "They're all squishy and sticky." I mimed pressing one of them between my thumb and the rest of my fingers. Imagined the way they felt, soft and sugary. Like flesh, but sweet. I couldn't understand why anyone would want to put one of them in their mouth.

"I like sticky." He chuckled.

Of course he did. Our conversations came down to sex more often than not. The memory of slipping my finger between his lips and letting him suck his own cum from my skin made my skin tingle and my clit throb.

I rolled my eyes. "Not that kind of sticky. I just don't like them, okay?"

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