Page 93 of Unwritten Rules

What I loved the most was how she pretended to hate me. The disgusted looks she gave me made my dick hard. Her little suspicious glances she threw up to hide her attraction only made me want to throw her down and have my way with her more. She was conflicted in her feelings, that much was clear. Unlike the other girls who threw themselves at me left and right, Fallon had an innate distrust of me and wanted to run the other way.

Good thing I was willing to give chase to her. That goody little two shoes.

“Here’s the food, sweetheart!” Martha emerged from the kitchen, placing the box on the counter.

I fished out a few hundreds and left them for her.

Why I needed to pay when I owned the place? Eh, it made me feel normal.

I showed up to Fallon’s house five minutes over the hour. There was no way I’d be late and have her change her mind.

Convincing her to let me in wouldn’t be terribly difficult, but I wanted her to want me there just as badly as I wanted to be there. The girl kept me on my toes.

Kelly went to bed, leaving just the two of us sitting at the table after a strange interaction between the two of them. I didn’t plan on leaving tonight–not that she had the option. I wanted to feel the softness of her skin all over again, no matter what it took.

There was also the need to make her aware of the Dictator’s plans and how she’d be involved.

See? I can do business too.

From what I remembered, her mother was a force to be reckoned with, and my grandfather took an interest in her ferocity. Something I could see developing well in Fallon. Maria came from absolutely nothing and had a vision with the willpower to make it happen. Abrutal womansome called her.

Which is exactly what my grandfather wanted–brutality in the form of a gorgeous woman to take the world by storm. She made connections quickly and could sell ice to a penguin given the chance. So, my grandfather put some opportunities in her wake and watched her run straight to the top.

Under one condition: she needed to help him with the black market deals by being a pretty face no one would question. She did, and she did it well.

My grandfather wouldn’t accept any less from her daughter.

Her throat bobbed and I could see some fear in her eyes. She was in an ocean without a boat.

How she softened me like this, I’ll never know. “My grandfather and I run a large scale operation in the black market. Arms, drugs, shit like that. Your properties across the globe are places we use as meeting points and safe houses. My grandfather expects complete cooperation.”

She shook her head, partly confused, and partly horrified. The welcome party to the elites and how we ran the world must have felt like a bullet to the chest. From the little information I had about her and her mothers relationship, it appeared her mother shielded her too much from the shit show that was the top one percent.

One didn’t get rich and stay clean at the same time. If you believed that, you’d be a fool.

“I don’t...” she trailed off, her face said horrified and her body slumped into a hopeless pile in her chair.

Hopefully she didn’t puke again.

“I know,” I replied, voice soft. “But it’s better you find out now so you can prepare yourself for what comes next. Leadership.” I stood up to gather the food and put it in the fridge. No cleaning for her while her worldview kept crumbling day by day.

She stood when I did, legs shaky, trying to find her footing. “Is it bad that I keep feeling like something horrible is about to happen at any moment?”

I pondered that while sealing up the food, placing it all in the fridge. “I think I would say that’s a normal response. If you weren’t, I’d say you fit right in with the rest of us. Paranoia is a natural feeling and a lot of people feel it. My grandfather gets paranoid. Granted, it’s in a different way.”

“And what’s your motive for being here? Why are you here?”

Her question made me stop and look at her. Why she consumed my thoughts would be a better question. Why was I drawn to her, wanting her to drag me under with her?

“It’s in both of our best interests that I help you,” I said quietly, closing up the fridge.

“What about before the scandal crap?”

“What about it? I told you before that you’re different and I liked it. What’s so difficult about me being interested in you for more than one reason?”

She approached me, big blue eyes staring up at me. They had a sheen across them–sadness glazing them over. Her brows furrowed while her mind worked, but her face held the most innocent thinking expression. I almost melted into the floor.

Laying a hand on my chest, breathing deeply, she spoke softly. “You’re Brent Vaughn.”

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