Page 58 of Dirty Heirs

I jammed the key into the lock and opened the door for my grouchy friend. No wonder why I liked Aiden so much. He reminded me of Marcello. We’d been best friends since the sandbox. No one knew me better than him.

“I’m not fucked,” I fired back, rolling my eyes as we descended the stairs. “It’s just sex.”

We could have taken the elevator, but I preferred the stairs. You don’t get a body like mine by being a lazy fuck.

“Sonny, you can lie to everyone… but not me.”

It was true. My best friend was a human lie detector. He could sniff out my bullshit faster than a bloodhound.

“Fine,” I confessed. “I like both of them. The sex was…” I took a moment to truly appreciate how good they both felt and revel in the memory. “It was the best sex of my life.”

“Her father will kill you,” he snapped. “Your dad already knows, which means the other Founders know, too. And they won’t approve of you having a relationship with a Doyle.”

The feud between our families was similar to that of the Capulets and the Montagues. I guessed that made us a modern-day Romeo and Juliet, except neither was dying for the other.

I was a romantic but not crazy.

What was the point of loving someone if you had to die to prove your love? The whole concept of Romeo and Juliet was stupid to me. Ella was off-limits, just like Juliet Capulet. And like the Montagues, with their bad attitudes and no fucks given, I didn’t care who had a problem with us.

She was mine.

“Forbidden fruit always tastes so much sweeter,” I said with a cocky smirk aimed at my grumpy friend. “Ella Doyle’s pussy is the sweetest fruit I’ve ever eaten. I’m not giving her up, Marcello. I don’t care what my dad says.”

“This is serious,” he said with a hint of judgment. “Since when do you get attached to women?”

“Since Aiden Wellington moved to Devil’s Creek and fucked with my head. There’s no going back now.”

On the first deck, I followed Marcello to where the detectives awaited us. Most of the crowd had thinned out. Two cops could only arrest so many people. They didn’t come with backup, so they must have arrived with an agenda.

Like ruining my night.

“Hello, detectives,” I said as we approached. “What can I do for you?”

“You can shut down this party and evacuate the boat,” Detective Swanson said like he had any control of where I went.

I sized him up, arms crossed over my chest. “I’ll tell my friends to get lost. But I’m not leaving. This is my second home.”

“This marina is only designated for docking boats. You’re legally not allowed to maintain a residence.”

“My primary residence is on Founders Way,” I said, attempting to unclench my jaw. “Just ask my asshole father who sent you here.”

“You regularly sleep here, do you not?” Detective Richardson said.

“I don’t live here.”

Detective Richardson moved between us. “The law is the law, Sonny. We’ll give you time to grab your things. But you can’t stay here.”

Still slightly buzzed and on the verge of losing my temper, I curled my hands into fists, biting my lip. I cocked an eyebrow at him, black dots blurring my vision. “And if I don’t leave?”

“We’ll take you to the station in handcuffs,” Detective Richardson said. “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

ELLA

Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw blood. So much fucking blood it painted the floor crimson, soaking the walls. I heard the tortured pleas of my mother and the gasping sounds of her last breaths.

In my dreams, I got a do-over.

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