Page 18 of Monsters Carve Thrones
The town car pulled up to the gates of the Manhattan mansion just after sunset, the sky blushing with gold and lavender. I exhaled as the driver rolled to a stop.
“Home,” I said softly.
Rafe didn’t answer, just looked up at the building with an expression I couldn’t quite place. His jaw twitched, unreadable. Maybe he was already calculating who needed reminding that the king had returned. Maybe he was just tired. Who knew what swirled inside that terrifying mind of his.
We stepped out, and the evening wind tugged at my coat, carrying the scent of the woods around us. It wasn’t hibiscus and saltwater, but my chest swelled anyway. We were barely through the doors when both of our phones lit up like Christmas trees.
I groaned.
Rafe swore.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
There was a flurry of missed calls, emails, and red-flagged notifications. My lock screen read like a boardroom murder mystery–three clients panicking about cybersecurity breaches, one exec being investigated by the feds, and a reminder from Laura that a proposal meeting had been bumped to Monday.
“Well,” I muttered, thumbing through the chaos, “guess we’re really back.”
Rafe was scrolling, too, his mouth a thin, displeased line. I caught the name of someone I didn’t recognize.Cruz, maybe?As well as a string of messages that probably meant someone had tried something stupid while he was gone. His eyes darkened as he read, tension rippling up his shoulders.
His work was never quiet or gentle or sane.
My phone buzzed again. This time, a message from Laura.
Hope you two had a lovely honeymoon and an ungodly amount of sex. Don’t worry, the company didn’t burn down (yet). But please stop glowing so much when you walk in on Monday. It’s offensive.
I snorted and fired back:
Glowing is the side effect of a thorough dicking, and you know it. See you Monday, babes.
I tucked the phone into my coat pocket and looked at Rafe. His gaze was still pinned to the screen, but something in his jaw had relaxed. There was a different kind of readiness tohim now. His lethal button had been pressed. He always looked so eerily calm then, and it honestly freaked me out sometimes.
“You’re going to have to kill someone, aren’t you?” I asked, tilting my head.
He looked at me and smirked faintly. “Two someones. Maybe three.”
“Well,” I sighed, “at leasteaseback into it.”
“I wish I could,” he chuckled, finally breaking through the seriousness. He stepped closer and ran a hand down my arm. “What about you?”
I glanced toward the stairs, imagining the penthouse office where I hadn’t sat in nearly two weeks. “I feel good,” I said honestly. “Refreshed. Like I could take on the whole goddamn world.”
Rafe’s smile turned wolfish. “That’s my girl.”
***
The elevator doors parted with a softding, and I stepped onto the top floor of Sinclair Solutions. Sleek lines, matte black steel, and floor-to-ceiling windows framed the skyline like art.Ah, this was my empire. My armor was a tailored charcoal blazer over a black bodysuit and heels sharp enough to gut someone. That was definitely not by mistake, either.
“Look who decided to show up,” Laura drawled the moment I stepped into my office. She was perched on the edge of my desk as always, legs crossed, devil-red lips curled in a smirk. Her platinum hair was twisted into a loose bun, a tablet in one hand and a cold brew in the other.
“I had a honeymoon,” I said, hanging my coat. “You know, where people fuck and tan and pretend emails don’t exist.”
Laura tilted her head. “Did you pretend hard enough, or just get fucked into pretending?”
I snorted, dropping into my chair. “Both. I’m sore in places I didn’t know had muscles.”
She let out a low whistle. “Well, your skin’s radiant, and your eyes look like you might commit murder if someone tries scheduling a 7 AM call. So, back to normal.”
“Almost,” I said, pulling up my terminal. “Give me the rundown.”
