Page 104 of Undisputed Player
“Been there.” Connor’s eyes went distant for a second, no doubt thinking of Sierra. “Doesn’t go away.”
Adrian cackled, throwing his head back. “You two are fucking whipped.”
I shot him a glare, but Connor’s lips twitched in rare amusement. “Says the guy who cried when his goldfish died.”
“Mr. Bubbles was a warrior,” Adrian promised solemnly, pressing a tattooed hand to his cropped tank.
The ride to Adrian's industrial-mansion-thing was quick, the Bentley hugging the street as I followed Adrian’s ridiculous wrapped Lamborghini through downtown.
The thing was an eyesore—a lime green that just screamed for attention.
Connor's more subdued black Audi brought up the rear, all three of us pulling into the private garage beside Adrian's converted warehouse.
“Home sweet home,” Adrian announced, throwing his arms wide as we entered the loft.
The space was exactly what you'd expect from a psychotic millionaire with questionable taste.
Exposed brick walls stretched up to a vaulted ceiling, massive windows overlooked the city, and the whole place was a blend of luxury and absurdity that only Adrian could pull off. A vintage arcade machine blinked in one corner, while an obscenely expensive Italian leather sectional dominated the living area. Art stretched along the walls.
"Still keeping the piranhas?" I asked, nodding toward the massive aquarium that separated the kitchen from the living room.
Adrian's grin turned predatory. "Added three new ones last week. They enjoyed Jerry’s fingers.”
Connor immediately claimed his usual leather armchair, pulling out his iPad and setting it up on the arm. Within seconds, he'd accessed his home security feed, his eyes softeningas he spotted Sierra curled on their penthouse couch with a book.
I pulled out my phone, pulling up the feed from Estelle’s Seaside Academy classroom that I may or may not have also bought the security company of. She was bumbling about the room, helping students with what looked like counting blocks.
"Look at you two," Adrian drawled, flopping into his office chair in front of a wall of six monitors. "Watching your girls like a couple of stalkers."
"Security," I corrected, propping my phone next to Connor's iPad so both screens showed our women going about their mornings.
"Stalking," Adrian countered, but there was longing in his voice. "Must be nice, having someone to obsess over."
Connor glanced up from his screen, where Sierra was now scratching Toffee behind the ears. "You'll find someone."
"When?" Adrian asked, spinning in his chair like a child, gazing at the ceiling longingly. "I'm starting to feel left out of this whole domestic bliss thing."
"When you stop scaring them away with your murder warehouse,” I said dryly.
"It's wonderful, thank you very much. Adrian corrected with wounded dignity. "And it's perfectly romantic if you think about it. Nothing says 'I love you' like a soundproof room full of power tools."
Connor and I exchanged a look. "No," we said in unison.
Adrian pouted, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Fine. But doesn’t mean she has to know about it. You two are going to be so jealous of our twisted love story."
"Looking forward to it," I smirked, turning back to my phone. On screen, Estelle was laughing at something a child said, directing her teaching assistant to step in.
"So," Adrian called, his fingers already flying across his keyboard. "Damon Cane. I'm guessing you want the full workup?"
I nodded, forwarding him the preliminary report my security teamhad sent over. "My guys did a basic background check, but I need more."
"Amateur hour," Adrian scoffed, his multiple monitors lighting up as he accessed different databases. "Let me show you how it’s done.”
Connor looked up from his bee-watching. “What's the legal standing on the custody case?”
“Estelle has full guardianship,” I explained, moving to pace Adrian's dark floors. “Leo's mother named her in the will. Damon was never on the birth certificate, never paid support, never even acknowledged the kid existed until the mother died.”
“So he's got no claim,” Connor summarized.
