Page 143 of Grumpy Billionaire Bad Boy

She's supposed to be dead.

A week ago, if someone told me she was alive, I would have been thrilled. Still in disbelief, but grateful she wasn't dead. But now, knowing she's the reason London is in the condition she is, and that she's working for Joe Vito, I can't wrap my head around it. I want to be happy, but I can't find it in me. I have to see her with my own eyes and talk to her, otherwise this is going to consume me.

Seven is leaning against his Rolls-Royce when we step through the hospital doors. He pushes his black shades up his nose and kicks off the ground to come toward us. "Hello, beautiful people!"

I eye him. "What are you on?"

"I'm high on life, baby," Seven says as he comes closer. "How's our girl doing?" He walks beside me and London.

"Ourgirl?" London glances at him. "When did I become yours, too, Seven?"

"Oh, you know, you're like family now, firecracker." Seven rushes forward to open the door to his car.

"I'm not even going to ask what that nickname is all about." London winces and climbs into the back of his Rolls-Royce, scooting into the seat.

"Give me the keys," I tell Seven. "I'm driving." I reach into my pocket and pull out a key. "Here, this is to my bike, it's parked in the emergency room."

"Whoa, you rode your bike into the hospital? That's sick." He swaps the keys without questioning me, which only adds to the weirdness of the situation. Seven is usually much more unhinged and uncontrollable. Today he's almost…agreeable."See ya at your place." He slaps my shoulder and takes off in the direction we came from, and because I don't want to deal with figuring out what he's on, I go around to the driver’s side and get in.

I go slow, driving the speed limit and braking easily, to not disturb London too much. Peeking back at her every so often, I grow more furious about things, and even more angry that I can't figure it out. I'm well aware I'm like a broken record at this point, but I'm not often caught by surprise and it unsettles me to my core. Maybe if I can make sense ofsomething, I won't be struggling this badly.

Slowing the Rolls-Royce to a stop, I park in front of our apartment complex and hop out.

Seven sits on the ledge of the steps, dangling his feet with his arms behind him as he leans toward the sky. It's like he's enjoying the sun for the first time in his life. He hops off the spot and rushes over. "Dude, what took you so long? I already parked your bike in the garage like ten minutes ago."

"Precious cargo," I tell him and go around to let London out. I pass him his keys, expecting him to leave, but he follows us into the building and up the stairs. I take a quick look at him as I help London into our apartment and onto the couch in the living room. I kneel beside her. "What do you need?"

London draws in a deep breath, wincing halfway through, and swallows harshly. "I'm fine," she lies.

Seven plops onto the far end of the couch and I glare at him.

"Seriously?" I say.

"What?" Seven shrugs and pulls out his phone, scrolling on it like he's not planning on leaving anytime soon. "Oh, hey, has Leo called you?"

"Only about a hundred times," I tell him and go to the kitchen to get London some water. I fill a glass, bringing it to her a moment later.

"Yeah." Seven brings his foot to rest on his other knee and throws his arm over the back of the couch, his hand dangerously close to London. "He got robbed."

"What? No way," London says, her interest being piqued. "By who?" She repositions herself in Seven's direction and I settle into the chair beside her, my entire body aching to be the one sitting on the couch with her.

"Some chick from the gala." Seven sets his phone down and crosses his arms. "Serves him right."

London takes a drink of the water I brought her. "Wait, what? He didn't go home with Grace? Man, I'm so out of the loop."

"You haven't heard?" Seven says like he's the queen of gossip.

"Um, no, tell me. I need all the tea." London settles into the couch, fully preparing herself for whatever he has to say.

It's strange to witness them getting along, and I hate that I kind of like it. Seven is a fucking lunatic, but he's still my brother, my family, and that means something to me, even if I want to kill him at times.

"Leo went home with this girl from the gala. Didn't get her name.Typical."

"What did she look like? Any identifying features?" London asks Seven.

He shrugs. "He told me she was hot."

I clear my throat, somehow ready to be nothing like who I am as a person and add to the gossip. "He told me she had jet-black hair."

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