Page 8 of Monster: King of Nevada

I sit up straighter, snarling, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

Caleb is a player. He likes to have a new girl in his bed twice a night. He’ll never settle down.

As he raises his hands in surrender, his eyes dance with amusement. “Didn’t know you’d laid claim to anyone.”

“I haven’t,” I bark, sitting back in my chair, hating how this is going.

“Sure, boss, if you say so.” He drops it after that and moves on to the meeting we must attend.

Opening the drawer in my desk, I grab the stack of cash in the envelope I’ll need. “Let’s fucking go,” I snap, ready for this fucking day to be over already, and it’s barely begun. “Lucas!” I shout for my missing assistant, knowing I’ll need his even temper and serious attitude for this meeting.

“Oh goody, a field trip.” Lucas grins as he appears from the back of the house.

“Cut the fucking sarcasm today.” My growl is met with matching looks from the two of them as we head to the front door where Owen waits.

“Yo-you’re leaving?”

I stop just as Owen opens the door and turn to find Ella standing halfway down the staircase, looking unsettled.

“Didn’t I tell you to go to your fucking room?” I’m much too aggressive today to deal with more shit, and it’s all because of her.

“Dude,” Caleb slaps my chest. “Be nice to the girl.”

“Will I be alone?” She hesitates to take a few steps farther down, pausing on the second-to-last step.

“Yes. That a problem?” My snarl is filled with a cruelty I didn’t know I could possess towards a woman.

She swallows audibly before looking to Lucas for reassurance, which only pisses me off more.

“Go back to your room,” I command. Of fucking course, she ignores me.

“Lucas?” Her pleading eyes remain focused on my assistant.

“Perhaps I could stay and keep the miss company?” he suggests, and I’d like to pound his fucking face in.

“No. She’s grown ass woman; she doesn’t need a fucking babysitter.” My gaze lasers in on Ella. “Go to your fucking room and don’t come out!” I shout, startling her.

Guilt assaults me when tears flow from her eyes, and she turns to flee my anger.

“Fuck,” I hiss. The quiet snick of her door closing only goes to show how unfair my treatment of her was.

“And you want that woman?” Caleb snorts, walking out the door, shaking his head.

“That was cold, man, even for you,” Lucas says, glaring at me.

There’s something in the way his eyes move back up to where she disappeared, some knowledge I’m not privy to. Before I can ask, he’s out the door, and it’s just Owen and me left.

“What, no comment from you?” I challenge. He shakes his head and walks out silently. I’m well and truly fucked if I think I’ve got a snowball’s chance in hell with her now.

Dropping my head back on my shoulders, I curse myself before heading out to the limo to make our meeting before we’re late. Lucas and Caleb give me the cold shoulder all the way there, despite us needing to discuss things.

“Get your shit together,” I warn as we arrive.

With the money stack firmly tucked away in my pocket, I step out of the car and head into the restaurant.

“Ahh, Mr. Lorde, welcome, welcome.” Antonio Malone offers a hand to shake. “Please, sit. I have your drink on the way.”

“Make it two,” I tell him. He freezes a moment but holds up two fingers for his bartender to see.

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