Page 153 of Undisputed Player
She let out an affronted sound, more princess than future school principal, cheeks flushed.
“Hey!” she protested, reaching to grab her cup back.
Keeping it out of her reach, I leaned in closer until we were sharing breath, the steel and sun sharp around us.
“You gonna punish me, princess?” I taunted, voice low, the kind of sound that always made her blush.
Her mouth quirked, and she tried to grab the cup back again. I sidestepped, caught her jaw in my palm, and dipped my head to share a mouthful, the cold trickling straight to her lips.
She sighed, just a little, part protest, part submission.
I kissed the taste into her mouth, tasting her mixed with the sweetness of the coffee, and when I pulled back, a thin drip ran down her chin and over her lip, catching gold in the light.
She gave me a dry sigh. “Now look what you did.” She fished again for a napkin.
I chuckled and cupped her jaw, licking the trail of coffee straight from her skin. She wriggled, but before she could melt completely, I popped her door open and guided her right out.
She gave me that look—half annoyance, half obedience—and slid out, the soft fabric of her pants hugging her legs as she stood tall beside the car.
I took a moment just to admire her, the sunlight turning her hair lighter, the proud posture she carried. She was everything, and she was mine.
While she snatched her coffee back and stretched, I reached past her into the car’s console, unlocking it with my fingerprint to ensure she’d listened to me.
And she did.
Her very own gun sat nestled in the leather, compact and with the safety on. I’d given her shooting and driving lessons, which she was more than happy to take on.
She wanted to be independent, and I was happy to let herfeelindependent, even if I had eyes on her everywhere she went.
We walked up the block together, passing the shuttered doors and graffiti-filled concrete. T
here were people waiting at the building’s edge—Thomas, my family’s assistant in his sharp suit, and the architects and engineers I trusted, all watching Estelle with a mix of respect and awe.
I dropped a hard hat on her head and handed her a thick folder.
She cocked her head, puzzled. “What’s this?”
“Open it.”
She took her time flipping through blueprints, permits, renderings, each page shining with glossy possibility. After a minute, her eyes caught the bold print at the foot of each one:Moore Academy for Excellence.
Her breath hitched, and I saw the moment she understood.
“I bought the block,” I murmured casually, my voice soft, meant for nothing but those honey eyes. “No more fighting for scraps. No turning kids like Leo away. You design it. Every classroom, every inch. You don’t just run it, princess. You rule it.”
She was frozen, tears shimmering at her lashes, but she blinked them back, jaw set, and looked up at me like she was seeing the horizon for the first time. “Jax… you did all this?”
I brushed my thumb along her cheek, catching the tear before it could fall. “I told you. Whatever you dream, I’ll make it happen. You want a castle? Here it is.”
She half-laughed, half-cried, a sound choked in astonished joy, nervous and fierce. “This is insane. You’re insane. There’s no way?—”
I grinned. “Listen to me.” I guided her, arm wrapped around her back, to where fresh blueprints were spread across a folding table, crew standing by.
“You want to know the plan? Everything is up to you. Free tuition for families making under two hundred grand—hard cutoff. The foundation is paying the difference, no school board bullshit.”
Her eyes were wide, beautiful hope and excitement sparkling in them. “We got an entire fleet of buses running routes to every low-income zip code in the city. The school answers to you, not the district. Your curriculum. Your call.”
Her lips parted, speechless as I pressed on. “Go on, princess. This is your kingdom. You want after-school programs, you got 'em. New music rooms, sports teams—done. Hire the best. Fire the worst. If you want to paint the hallways neon and hang clouds from the ceilings, I’ll make sure they never fall.”
