Page 9 of Three Corporate Kings and a Hands-Off Bride

“We’re bad men who’ll do bad things to you, Alicia. You should stay away from us.”

They left the room, ?and she sucked in another quick breath. Her body still trembled, and her heart had a weird beat to it.

She wasn’t backing down. She was only getting started.

Chapter Seven

Well, it was just Alicia’s luck that she would bump into Monica Freaking Matthews and her entourage, who saw her coming out of their study straight after they’d stalked from it themselves. Monica’s dad apparently was in the mining business with King Industries.

And the tall, super beautiful Monica, usually came with her father and brought her little friends along too when they held these business dinners. Alicia was always just too happy to avoid them all, despite Monica going out of her way to seek Alicia out. She always wondered why the girl was so threatened by her.

Monica staggered backward, holding out her hand as if she could ward off the demon that was Alicia. It was her big bump on her forehead, obviously.

“Oh my god. Keep Satan away,” she laughed, and the other girls joined in. “What happened to you, Alicia?” she then asked with false concern.

“I ran into a glass door, thanks for asking,” Alicia said smiling which somehow made her knob ache a little. Oh, right becauseshe was pretend smiling and pretend smiling always hurt her whole face.

“Oh bless your little heart, Alicia. You’re just too precious. You ran into a glass wall,” she said laughing again. “And what is that you’re wearing? Homeless chic?” Another round of high-pitched laughter. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

Alicia wanted to gag at the syrupy-sweet, condescending voice of her arch nemesis. First, she’d like very much to bless Monica’s little heart… with tar.

“Isn’t she just darlin’, girl?” Monica added, which was the cue for her equally leggy entourage to nod in approval at their collective condescension.

Seriously, could Monica only do sarcasm in a Southern Belle voice? She was a New Yorker, born and raised.

Alicia, on the other hand, could swear proudly in eight different languages, and she counted swearing like a sailor as one of those languages. One of her dad’s best friends had been a captain on a cargo ship. But she kept those words to herself.

“Just darlin’.” Monica gave her a vicious smile and strode away.

Argh. She didn’t have time for the mean girl club. She had three husbands to ensnare, and she was already one marriage proposal knocked down.

As soon as she reached her bedroom, she jumped into the shower and scrubbed her skin stupid, or rather until she glowed. Her last waxing session meant her body was still silky soft and completely hairless everywhere. Letting herself air dry, she stood naked in front of the mirror and stared at the knob staring right back at her.

Makeup was not going to cover it. She had to take drastic measures. She searched a drawer for a pair of scissors, got her phone and opened a video on how to cut bangs and got to work.

The result? Not nearly as bad as she’d expected. She finger-dried her hair with a blow drier so it came out wavy, soft, shiny, including the fringe. Perfect. No one who already didn’t know would guess she hid her third eye under her bangs.

She went for very sultry makeup. Smoky eyes, alluring lips. Then she stood in front of her closet. Atthe back of her mind she knew she was going to wear her little black dress, a sleeveless, above the knee, fitted, shift dress, but now it didn’t quite go with the aesthetic she was after. Procuring three husbands.

She searched around the rack of clothes, growing despondent when she couldn’t find the right dress. The one that screamed sophisticated sex siren. And yes, she understood she was still a virgin, but she could still be a siren.

Then she found it. The perfect dress had been a grandiose purchase she’d never been confident enough to wear. When she slipped into it, she knew she wasn’t changing her mind. Black silk, hung loosely over her shoulders and down the front and back of the dress, leaving the middle of her back and torso bare. The silk fabric changed to lace on her hips and hugged her backside before it draped down to her ankles, in the front and as a train at the back in soft see through chiffon.

Underwear not allowed.

She was running out of time, so before she started fiddling unnecessarily, she stepped in a pair of six-inch black silk pumps. For jewelry, she went with a set of statement earrings that hung down from her lobes like chandeliers.

She neatened her lipstick, fluffed her hair, and hurried out of her room, down the staircase, but once she hit the landing, she straightened her spine, and slowly strutted her way into the reception area, just off the luxurious dining room.

A hush fell over the room as all eyes turned on her. She was only interested in a pair of green eyes, a pair of blue eyes, and a pair of hazel-colored eyes. No one else mattered.

When they spotted her, their gazes swiftly glided down her body than up to her face before they were excusing themselves and coming toward her. Cade led them out of the hall. Eli and Baxter held her by her arms as they effortlessly pulled her along too.

Okay then.

She did, however, notice Monica’s green stare on her. That was something. She’ll take it.

They dragged her back to their study and locked the door behind them.

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