Page 2 of Manhattan Secret
But I want her.
Crave her.
There is no risk I won’t take, even if it means I lose everything.
If she loses everything.
There’s a lot to be said for doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. It’s a great analogy. If something isn’t working, then change it, do something different, do better.
Love comes with its own set of rules and risks.
I go in blind.
Because I’ve never met a rule I don’t want to manipulate under my hands.
And she’s worth it all.
She isn’t meant for me.
She isworth it.
Because forbidden never tasted so good before.
C H A P T E R 1
Lachlan
“Is the Bishop back in business?”
“Shut the hell up, man.” I rasp, thumping a fist into my best friend’s shoulder. Ethan has a big mouth on him. Not only because he continually spouts off shit that isn’t meant for anyone else’s ears, but he also only has one volume and that’s deafeningly loud.
“Fuck, that hurt,” he complains, rubbing the top of his bicep.
Not even ten minutes insideGinger Girland already he’s annoying me.
“Tough shit,” I tell him. “I warned you not to mention that, didn’t I?”
Up on the mezzanine level, I have a full view of the local bar that me and my circle of friends have made our usual hang-out.
Mainly because Kian’s parents own it.
I don’t usually get carded. If you want to get technical, being eighteen I shouldn’t even be inside a bar, but what you gonna do?
Stretching out my legs, I scratch a hand over the shaved part of my skull and keep my eyes moving around the bar. Not looking for anything in particular but my brother would claim I’m a nosy little shit.
He wouldn’t be wrong.
“But I thought you said…” the moron doesn’t know when to quit. I glare at Ethan and finally he huffs and shuts his mouth.
Talking about the Bishop in public, even away from our school, Richmond Academy, the elitist of the elite in Manhattan, doesn’t automatically mean there are no prying ears and eyes around.
I keep my business on lockdown for good reason, being that it’s slightly illegal and morally dishonest. Only a select few know about the Bishop.
I’m savagely regretting letting my best friend in on my shit.
If not for him getting me paying clients, I might have buried him in the Hudson River. He might be a big mouth at times…all times, but he was a damn good salesman.
The Bishop and his resurrection from the dead is no one’s concern but mine, and only those who I want to know will be alerted to him being back again.
