Page 66 of Mine

“Plane crash.”

Astor looks away, lost in memories. When he refocuses on me, he begins trailing his index finger over the rim of his wineglass.

“So. We have similar backgrounds and similar pain, you and me. We both grew up poor, we both lost our mothers tragically, and we both value money much more than any human being should.” He lifts his chin. “You remind me of her.”

“Your mother?” I can’t hide my surprise. “How so?”

“She’s the only other woman who’s ever slapped me.”

I grin. “Well. You deserved it.”

“Yes, I did. Both times.” He winks.

Electricity crackles between us. I feel my internal temperature rising.

“Speaking of that,” I say, “I have one more thing to add to my assessment of you.”

“Yes?”

“You have a kink.”

“Impact play. A form of BDSM.”

“Ah, so you’re aware of it.”

“Only since you.”

I swallow deeply, suddenly feeling like my skin is on fire.

A moment passes between us, the silence deafening. He’s staring at me as if waiting for me to say something, do something, but I’m so flustered that instead, I rip off a piece of bread and shove it into my mouth.

Dammit, how does this man turn me into a blubbering puddle of idiocy?

I swallow the bread and chug my wine.

“Eat your dinner,” Astor says coolly, now back to his original demeanor.

I take this as the perfect opportunity to bring up Prishna and see what Astor will—or will not—reveal. Will he tell me about the death certificate? The real reason she’s working for him?

“I would, but the dinner is likely poisoned.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Prishna cooked it, didn’t she?”

“She did.”

“She hates me.” I cock a brow. “Yet another person who wouldn’t care if I left.”

“It really bothered you when I said that, didn’t it?”

“Of course it did.”

He doesn’t apologize. Instead, he says, “Don’t mind Prishna.”

“It’s impossible not to. She despises me.”

“Prishna despises all women.”

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