Page 17 of Reckless Games

Lake lives a monotonous life. She’s routine in every sense. All I could do was hope deep down she yearned for more. So I gave her a nudge in my direction.

Something my girl accepted.

And now I have her.

“How’s the retrieval going?” I ask Cillian, changing the subject.

Lake sends my brain spiraling even when she’s not around.

“Good.” Cillian stands, pulling out his phone and flipping through it. “This is just last night.”

He turns his phone so I can examine the image on the screen.

The wonderful thing about the holidays is everyone gets too comfortable. They let their guards down and allow the excuse to have a little fun get them into trouble. They’re too trusting when you dangle just enough freedom in front of them.

“Perfect.” I nod, and Cillian tucks his phone away.

“Want me to send it to your father?”

I can’t help but chuckle. It doesn’t matter that I’m thirty-five, something about that statement makes me sound like an infant who needs watching after.

“No. I’ll report back at the end of the week.”

Cillian nods.

One of the downsides of using my father’s security company is they assume he’s in charge. While he might be the backbone of the Kingsley empire, I’m the one who maintains it. I keep him profitable and powerful. I’m the face.

At least lately he’s too focused on my brother Rhett, and whatever damage the two of them are causing the religious circuit to care what I’m up to.

Leaving me with the perfect opportunity to invite my little obsession to Midnight Manor. Mixing business with pleasure like this won’t end horribly.

“Did you take care of the favor I asked you last night?” I turn to Cillian, taking a healthy sip of my drink.

Cillian nods. “He’s gone.”

“Good.”

Technically, the rules state no one leaves the manor until midnight on New Year’s Eve. But this is my game. And Connor had the nerve to look at Lake like he wanted to do things only I’m allowed to—granting him his early exit.

My phone rings.

“Yes?”

“We’re ready,” Cherry says, and I can’t help but grin.

I’ve been hosting these events for the past seven years, and not once has any part of them captured my interest. But that was when Lake wasn’t here. Dressed up, dressed down, desperate to come beneath me.

“Good, I’ll be right out.” I hang up the call.

Cillian smirks, breathing out a laugh.

“What?”

“Participating again?”

“Like you never have.” It doesn’t matter if he’s a friend, I don’t want his judgments. “Get back to work.”

Cillian thinks I’m having my fun. I wish that were all.

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