Page 188 of The Billionaires

Ambrose strides over to his son and thrusts a bundle of clothing into his hands. “Please put this on and come back,” he says, sounding vaguely apologetic. “This party has a theme.”

Colossus runs over to Bruce and wags his tail.

Peering at the horse outfit, Bruce graces us all with one of his rare smiles. “Are you mini-Roach?”

The puppy wags his tail harder.

I don’t care what you call me, so long as there’s a cookie in it for me.

“Well, let’s go,” Bruce says to the dog, and they depart together.

I head over to the no-Bruce bar and order a shot of vodka. When I’m back on the dance floor, Bruce and Colossus return.

Holy Anubis. I should’ve guessed Angela and Theodora would end up doing this, yet I find myself unprepared and in need of new panties.

Already broad-shouldered by nature, Bruce looks huge with the signature armor shoulder plates of his costume. And given the gray wig, the two swords on his broad back, and the signature wolf pendant on his neck, there can be no doubt about who he is: Geralt of Rivia, or as everyone thinks of him, the Witcher.

CHAPTER 29

BRUCE

Even though I expected a surprise party, the theme threw me for a loop, so my shock was genuine.

Later, as I was changing, I got a chance to process everything and realized that for the first time, I might actually enjoy my stupid birthday party, or at least find it easier to tolerate. It also didn’t take long for me to figure out whom I have to thank for this. After all, she’s as big a fan of this universe as I am.

Which is why, when Colossus and I step back into the ballroom, I seek Lilly in the crowd.

It takes me a few moments on account of all the outfits, but once I focus on height (or lack thereof) and eyebrows (or an abundance thereof), I locate her—and feel my eyes begin to bulge, like those of a cartoon wolf, which is fitting given the pendant on my neck.

She looks sexy as hell—and of course, she’s dressed as my character’s love interest.

Walking over to her, I pull out the earbuds from under my wig and say hi.

She rids herself of her buds and sings “Happy Birthday” in that special way made famous by Marilyn Monroe, just replacing “Mr. President” with “Mr. Roxford.”

As I listen, I wonder how wrong it would be if I threw her over my shoulder and ran to my bedroom. Would everyone think it’s part of the cosplay? Probably not, so I’d better behave.

“Thank you.” I gesture around. “Whoever came up with the Witcher theme is a genius.”

She bats her eyelashes at me coquettishly. “I wonder who she was?”

I shrug theatrically. “I’m picturing someone beautiful. Thoughtful. Probably great with dogs.”

There it is, the blush I was trying my best to generate. “Have you eaten?” She points to the corner away from everyone. “That’s the station for you to eat at, which is separate from everyone else’s.”

I step closer. “Your idea?”

Looking up at me, she nods.

I lean down. “You’re amazing.”

She rises on her tiptoes. “It was my pleasure.”

Are we still talking about this party?

Doesn’t matter.

I’m tasting those lips again.

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