Page 32 of The Merciless King

BRAXTON

Good one, idiot.

Now I have to pretend to have a thirty-minute meeting.

With myself.

Because there’s no fucking meeting. At the time, it felt like something that would appeal to Gianna—me not being available all evening—and I was right. A woman in her position is propositioned constantly by men wanting something from her.

Like I do.

But I’m smarter.

And desperate.

Every day counts for Amy. Or it’s already too late. But that’s on her mother. Tracey should have told us Amy was missing. That she didn’t makes me furious at least a thousand times a day.

I step out onto the balcony of the Dufort Hotel and slide a hand into one of my pockets, then hold my mobile phone to my ear.

I may as well check in with the Dark Kings while I have privacy.

“Please tell me I didn’t just lose two hundred dollars,” Mack answers.

I frown. “What?”

“It’s ten after midnight. If you aren’t busy fucking her, I can assume she rejected you. Damn Decker. I was sure you’d score.”

“Okay, first, I’m wounded,” I say, slamming my hand against my chest even if he can’t see me. “Second, thanks for betting on me.”

“You’re welcome,” Mack says. “Wait, did I or didn’t I just lose my money.”

“Keep your wallet closed. Ms. Baldassare is propped up in my bed, glowing, while I have a fictitious meeting.”

“Why?”

“Long story,” I mutter. “But you need to talk to me for thirty minutes.”

Silence.

“I don’t have that much to say,” Mack replies.

I chuckle.

“Both of you go to damn sleep,” Summer says in the background.

Damn, I forgot he had a fiancé.

“I’ll let you go. Thanks for answering.” I tell Mack.

“Always will when we have a Dark King undercover,” he tells me, and I don’t correct him as I hang up.

I’m not one of them.

And I’m not yet inside the Baldassare family.

But I will be.

I saw the way Gianna was looking at me as she came.

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