Page 18 of Mine to Ruin

“We’re not doing that,” I say, shutting this down before she starts.

“It’s never been a problem before,” she replies with a lilt she thinks will entice me but annoys me.

“You didn’t want more before. I couldn’t give you that. End of discussion.”

Melanie rounds the desk; a manicured finger traces a path over the surface.

“You showed her around. You never did that before.”

Of course, someone would notice and start talking. I mumble under my breath that it’s no one’s business when she adds, “I’m the VP and I have eyes and ears everywhere for a reason.”

“You think too highly of your role in my life. I need no one.”

Melanie scowls. “One day, I am coming to collect my favor.”

I jerk my chin toward the door. “Good, but until then, do your work. This hotel won’t run itself.”

When she reaches the handle, she turns around. “There is this gala tomorrow. The invite and tux are in your dressing room.”

“Good.”

“See you later, friend… without the benefits. Sex made you far more tolerable.”

I growl at her, and she finally leaves. I am going through the plans for the construction of the next hotel when my brother walks in. The poster image of a child fed with a silver spoon, wearing slacks and polos, and an I can do anything—and probably have—attitude. Brandon goes straight to my bar and takes a bottle of whiskey and a glass out. The spoiled little shit.

“I have to work,” I tell him; my tone lowers to brusque, but he’s not deterred.

“What crawled up Melanie’s ass? I swear I saw smoke coming from her ears on the way to the elevator.”

“Exaggeration was always your forte. Still overcompensating, I see.”

Brandon scowls. I enjoy toying with him too much. He swirls his drink.

“On the contrary.” His cocky reply tugs at my lips, and they twitch into a small smile. “So who is this new girl?”

And my smile disappears.

“Kian,” Brandon continues, “half of the staff saw you offering her a tour of the hotel. That’s never happened before.”

“What I do or don’t do is my business.”

“It won’t end well. You seem polar opposites, and you…”

“I what, brother?” I snarl. Behind my suits are bruises and nightmares, behind his polos are sunshine and dreams. The disrespectful trust fund baby has no idea what demons lurk in the open—and one of them is his fucking father.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Dejection rings in his words. One day, I will tell him the truth, but it will ruin his life, and I’d rather shield him a bit longer.

“Leave. Some of us have actual work to do.”

Brandon glares at me before he stomps out of my office.

After a phone conference with the architect, I call my oldest friend, and we meet in the basement that serves as a personal gym and a fighting area. I crack my neck and shake my limbs to loosen my muscles, getting ready for the fight.

My encounter with Ellia has me on edge, wired and ready. I can’t get her out of my head. The fighter in me rises from the confines I shoved him behind—the suits I wear. In here, I can let my true nature slip through.

Adrenaline and power surge through me, making me feel alive. In the boxing ring, we spar until he pats the floor, both of us ripping our gloves off as we spit out the mouth guards.

“It’s been years since you've been this riled up.” Kendrick breathes heavily while I move to the punching bag and don’t stop until my knuckles bleed and swell. I put my head in my hands and groan. He tosses me a bottle of water and I gulp it down.

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